Finding Home
by Sapphic Peach
Summary: - s1- Isidore Alexander and Emillyn Duncan are young, fresh faced hunters thrust into a brand new way of life. Sam and Dean Winchester are older, experienced hunters who fit this life like a glove. Somehow, they all crash together.
1. Pilot

**A/N: Welcome to yet another fanfiction.**

Isidore tapped her fingers in an anxious rhythm on the wooden table between the red seating of the booth. She tried desperately to ignore the endless shaking that ran from her shoulders to her fingertips; mourning the fact that she'd waited until she got into Jericho, California to get any caffeine into her system. If anyone suggested an addiction she would have denied it, but she was fairly certain the nonstop caffeine intake proved any protests wrong. When the waitress sat down the mug of coffee, Isidore smiled thankfully for only a short moment, quick to take a long sip of the black coffee. The relieving feeling of caffeine intake far surpassing any disdain she had toward the burning sensation on her tongue.

"Still haven't shaken the caffeine addiction, I see." An enthusiastic voice said from behind the booth. Isidore turned her entire body, the smiling face of Emillyn- baby faced with lovely, round cheeks covered in freckles- warming Isidore more than the coffee.

"Never." Isidore assured in her thick French accent, lifting herself up from the booth seat and immediately finding herself engulfed in a tight hug from the happy girl. Isidore had never really met someone so happy to touch till she met Emillyn, she had the kind of embrace that made the feeling of love spread over you slowly as if it were a contagious symptom to be caught.

"You changed your hair." Isidore noted as the two girls pulled away from each other, taking seats across from one another at the booth. Emillyn's curly blonde hair was cut to her shoulders now rather than past her chest as it had been before. Isidore liked the way the cut shaped itself around her pale skin.

"Yeah, hunting makes long hair such a hassle. I'd been meaning to cut it forever" Emillyn shrugged, looking as carefree as ever. Isidore reached back, feeling her own long, dark locks currently encased in a thick ponytail- the girl had a good point.

Emillyn ordered a large breakfast with rather complicated instructions while Isidore asked for a refill of the coffee she'd already downed. Once the plates of food and coffee pot had been settled down on the table, Emillyn tilted her head up from a large bite of pancakes, "So- you know anything about this case?"

Isidore shook her head, linking her fingers around the warmth of the mug. She stared at the vague reflection she could see within in the coal black coffee- even in the reflection of a drink she could see the large, purple circles underneath her eyes. "Not anymore than you, I'm afraid." she spoke finally, "Multiple male victims whose bodies can't be found and a claim of a ghost story."

Emillyn took another large bite, Isidore wondered to herself how such a small girl could fit such a big bite in her mouth. "Luckily, ghost are our specialty." She said with a confident grin around the silver fork. Isidore wasn't nearly as sure that 'specialty' was the right word; they'd both only been doing this for roughly a year, but it was hard to make any attempt to argue with the level of optimism Emillyn brought to the table.

"If we hurry, I think I saw the officers heading for the scene. We could talk to them." Isidore offered, though she wasn't very pleased with the idea of leaving her coffee behind. She kicked herself for not bringing a portable cup like the tall, dark blue one Emillyn kept sipping from.

"He's young enough that we could play friend of the victim." Emillyn agreed, quickening her already rather fast eating pace.

Isidore savored a long drink from the mug, finishing it off as Emillyn stood and stretched, "Let's go meet those cops and do their job for them." she teased.

Isidore chuckled softly at the comment, though she felt bad for it. The police did a well enough job up until it came to the issue of race or the supernatural.

* * *

When they got to the bridge the accident had occurred on, sure enough the town sheriff had arrived on scene. The sheriff stood with another officer, talking far too casually considering the scene behind them- though Isidore supposed treating death so casually was a skill learned with time. Behind their parked police car, Isidore saw a silver car that looked as if it had been crushed with large hands, blood soaking between the cracks in the glass.

Even further beyond the horrific scene, on the opposite side of the bridge, Isidore could just barely make out two men crossing their way over toward the officers. Isidore nudged Emillyn, making their presence known. Emillyn grabbed onto Isidore with both hands, leading cross the bridge and over to the sheriff.

One of the two men opened his mouth to speak, but Emillyn interjected before he could get a single word out, "Sheriff, please!" She yelled, Isidore was taken aback by how realistic her panic sounded, "That's our friend!"

As Emillyn kept the sheriff's attention, Isidore looked over the two men. The taller, dark haired one had a seemingly permanent frown on his face and dark, puppy dog eyes that could melt the coldest heart. The glance that she took at the other man was quick, flustered by the twinkling green eyes and mischievous grin- something about him seemed so painfully familiar that she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Luckily, he didn't seem to feel the same way, instead his attention seemed to stick to Emillyn's (no surprise, Isidore was certain that Emillyn could draw the attention of a crowd off of a broadway musical) as the taller boy's did, though rather than annoyance his face displayed amusement.

Isidore snapped out of her observations when Emillyn's voice as replaced by one of the mystery men- the puppy dog eyed one. "Excuse me, officer." he managed to cut in, not bothering to look at Emillyn as he spoke, "We're US Marshals."

Emillyn raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Marshals? Aren't you a little young?" she inquired before the officer had a chance to, he was obviously thinking the same thing though judging by the way he nodded dumbly along with her statement. Both waited expectantly for an answer and while Isidore was trying hard to focus all her attention on the taller boy, she couldn't stop herself from trailing her eyes over the other one. She knew him- she knew she did. He caught her glance and a flick of a smile played on his lips- playful. Isidore felt her cheeks heat up almost immediately.

It was the same smaller, green eyed man that spoke and Isidore focused her vision on the middle of his forehead so she didn't have to meet his look. "That's awfully kind of you, ma'am. But we are, in fact, Marshals." he spoke with so much confidence that every indicating factor that they were lying seemed to be thrown out the window- though they were lying, Isidore was certain of that. Not that she and Emillyn were any better on that front.

The officer, however, seemed taken by their charm, "Troy Squire, a popular boy." he looked to Emillyn and Isidore, seeming to expect something indicating he was right from the 'friends' of the victim. Isidore nodded solemnly and Emillyn was a good enough actress that Isidore thought she might actually put out some tears for the role. Emillyn had mentioned high school, once, maybe she'd been in a drama program. "All that's left behind is his car and no other whereabouts. Amy, his girlfriend, is putting up signs. She thinks he's alive."

"Poor Amy always was an optimist." Emillyn sniffled. There were the tears, Isidore almost thought she wouldn't be able to suppress a small smile.

"She mentioned a ghost story." Isidore added softly, the US Marshals seemed to perk up at this. She wasn't sure if this was due to the mention of the supernatural or the fact that her accent always muffled what she was saying worse than her quiet tone of voice did. But she'd talked to a few girls chattering outside the diner briefly and figured the information was valuable to at least she and Emillyn, "A woman died on this highway bridge, right?"

The officer seemed to lose a bit of tension at this, laughing, "Well, we'll make sure to add a ghost to our suspect list." he joked. Emillyn laughed along, but Isidore couldn't shake the seriousness of her face. She noticed the puppy dog eyed boy had the same obvious tension on his own face.

Emillyn set her hand on Isidore's wrist, indicating that it was time they made an excuse to go. Isidore set her free hand over Emillyn's, smiling at the officer, "Thank you for the time, sir."

Emillyn nodded, "Really, with you out there, I know the bastard who did this to Troy doesn't stand a chance." she thanked, though her voice sounded the most fake it had been since the conversation started. Isidore figured annoyance had sprouted once again for the lack of seriousness the officers were treating this situation with.

As the officer bid farewell to the two girls, they turned away, making their way across the bridge. They'd almost made it off, before one of the men called for them to wait. Isidore wanted to keep moving, but Emillyn seemed willing to play along and the two spun in their direction.

"You were friends of the victim, right? Can I ask a few questions?" the green eyed one spoke, his voice was smooth. The taller one, however, seemed to share Isidore's discomfort for the conversation.

"'Were'?" Emillyn repeated back, once again amazing Isidore with her ability to play a character so well, "They haven't found him yet, _sir_." she noted, emphasizing the word with disbelief, "He could be out there."

"Did you see that car?" it was the taller boy's turn to talk, "What do you think? That he got up and walked away from that?" his eyes turned to Isidore, and Isidore figured he suspected her to be the weak link.

Feeling pressured to answer, Isidore spoke up, trying to keep her accent handled. "There are other options." she stated simply.

"Where's that accent from, sweetheart? You certainly don't sound like some California chick." The green eyed boy questioned.

Isidore felt Emillyn's grip on her wrist tighten protectively- she always surprised by how strong of a grip the girl had, "Her parents moved here from France a few years ago, job opportunity." she hissed, frowning at the two boys, "We better get going." she said pointedly, smiling in farewell and leading Isidore off the scene.

* * *

After roughly an hour of staring at a screen in the library, Isidore was beginning to feel the desperate need for caffeine come back to her. On the computer beside her, Emillyn was half asleep on the keyboard, head nestled between folded arms. Isidore struggled to shift through articles, but reading English was not her strong suit and she couldn't even think of the English words for what she was thinking. She'd only been in America a little over a year.

Emillyn's head sprung up suddenly, causing Isidore to jump.

"We need move to the other side." Emillyn stated, making no further sound to explain.

"The other- what?" Isidore asked, rubbing her face in confusion. She felt like she'd just been awakened from a deep trance. She didn't get an answer before Emillyn yanked her up, still not giving a single hint of indication as to why. Together, they moved to the opposite facing line of computers, ducking their heads.

"Emi, I do not believe the research will be any better-" Isidore began to whisper.

Emillyn shushed her, nodding her head toward the direction of the computers they'd only just been sitting at. The two men from earlier lowered themselves into the looked at Emillyn, obvious surprise written on her features. She didn't dare to speak but was fairly certain the question ' _How could you possibly have heard them?_ ' was quite obvious.

Emillyn just shrugged and Isidore just figured she needed to deal with the fact that she wouldn't be getting any answers. Instead the two listened carefully as the men quickly fell into a state of bickering with one another about the circumstances of Troy's death.

"Dean, just look up the history surrounding the bridge." The taller boy insisted, obvious annoyance in his tone. "You'll make this so much easier."

"I know how to research, Sammy. I've been doing this on my own while you were playing college boy- remember?"

"Then why'd you ask for my help on this damn case?" Isidore heard the sound of shoving and the other voice, Dean, murmuring 'fucking control freak'.

"You know damn well why I asked you for help and it has nothing to do with some teenage boy killed in a car."

"Maybe we should leave this case alone, then. Focus on the problem at hand."

"Leave the case? Oh, sure. And then how many more people die? That's on us. No one else has half a brain around here to solve this case and the angry spirit gets to stay fat and happy killing off whoever they damn well please."

Emillyn and Isidore shared knowing looks- these two were here for the same reason they were. They had to be. Isidore found herself caught on the 'problem at hand' buisness, wondering what exactly they had meant by it- the puppy eyed boy (Sammy?) had taken a deeply serious tone when he'd mention it. They both had. Maybe it was a personal case, the Lord knew those cases were the worst for hunters.

In her thinking Isidore had just barely registered the flash of a smile from Emillyn directed toward Isidore- the famous 'I have a crazy idea that's probably going to get us in trouble' smile. Before Isidore could adjust enough to ask Emillyn about it (or talk her down from it) she was back around the tables, face to face with the men. A glowing smile on her face.

"Having trouble with somethin', Marshals?" Emillyn teased in a drawl, the two looking very taken aback by this- she always knew how to make an entrance. "You sound awfully worked up. Do US Marshals always do their work in a library? Because I'm pretty sure this land of research is reserved for hunters who actually want to get a job done."

" _Emillyn_!" Isidore gasped out. She ignored the horrified 'I can't believe you just used my full name' expression she got from Emillyn and returned it with an even more horrified 'you can't just tell people things like this' look. Not people about your profession as a hunter had always been an obvious, unspoken rule. And while it was obvious these two were well in tuned with the hunting lifestyle as well- it didn't look very good upon the girls' reputations if they were willing to blab it out with no consideration like this.

The tall boy looked to the green eyed one- they seemed to have an entire conversation within a five second glance and the glance quickly faded into a loud laughter than would make anyone believe they'd just been proxy to the best joke they'd ever heard.

"Well Dean, we don't need to worry about this case now. It's in very capable hands." The dark haired boy said, grinning- Isidore could see dimples in his cheeks. She noted that this was the first time she'd seen the taller boy not looking so solemn and serious as he tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back in the computer chair.

"You're right, Sam, these two girls got it covered. They'll just walk around a library like the own the place or some shit because they're hunters." Dean's green eyes flickered toward the two of them, an amused smile forming on his lips, "Good choice, by the way, blabbin' about being hunters like that. Amateurs."

Emillyn rolled her eyes, seeming to brush off the comment as if it was nothing. Isidore, however, simmered in the harsh words. She couldn't afford to make herself known to too many- that could have consequences that she was in no way ready to face. "Are we going to work together on this or not?" Emillyn asked as if this was the obvious solution.

Dean snorted, "Work together? No thanks, you'll get us killed."

"Well if you're so worried about being killed than you can leave the case to us. 'Imminent death' is kind of in the job description, don't you think?" she stated simply, a grin plastered to her face. Isidore wondered where she got all that confidence from.

"You're not doing this alone! How old are you anyway? You look twelve!"

"I'm twenty, not that it matters. And I don't understand, do you want us to do it alone or with you?"

"Sh!" a librarian spat from a few feet away. This did nothing to quell the bickering, but at least the two lowered their volume.

Isidore sighed softly, wandering around the two who were so caught up in their arguing that they didn't seem to notice at all. She settled herself in the chair beside Sam who was ignoring the two in favor of researching the mystery of the missing boys. An amused smile still found its way on his lips, though. She wondered if he found it nice to listen to someone else fight with Dean aside from himself

Sam leaned forward on his chair when his eyes laid on an article 'Bridge Suicide'. The article turned out to be about a woman named Constance Welch who had jumped off the bridge Troy Squire's car had been found on after her kids had drowned within a bathtub (Isidore felt her heart clench at the story).

"That poor girl..." Isidore whispered softly, she hadn't even meant to speak out loud.

Sam jumped, only just now aware of her presence behind him. "How- How long have you been sitting there?"

"Long enough to read the story over your shoulder- I apologize." she said, rubbing her arm. "But the bridge, in the story-"

"It's the same one, yeah." Sam confirmed, "We need to go back to it." He turned to Emillyn and Dean, "You two stop arguing like children. C'mon."

"We're taking them with us?" Dean complained, looking at Sam desperately.

"They're going to work on the case anyway, Dean, we may as well cover more ground." Sam said, standing from the chair and heading out of the library without another word. Isidore shot an apologetic glance at Dean before following behind Sam quickly. She wasn't certain she minded having a bigger group on a case like this.

Emillyn shrugged, obviously proud to have gotten her way with the cocky smile that was on her lips. Dean rolled his eyes, but eventually trudged behind.

"Woah! Is that your car?" Emillyn gasped when they hit the light of the outside world. Parked directly outside of the library was a sleek, black car with a vintage, mint condition look to it."I've only dreamed of cars like this, they look nothing like the ones I've stolen to get around. I call shotgun!" she called.

"No. You don't." Sam said, shoving the smaller girl out of the way with ease. Sam easily had over a foot on Emillyn. "And, pro tip? Don't go shouting that you've been stealing cars."

Emillyn huffed, climbing into the backseat behind Isidore.

* * *

"So this is where Constance Welch took the swan dive." Dean noted casually, leaning most of his body over the bridge. Isidore looked over at him and he must have noticed the horrified expression on her face because he raised an eyebrow, "What? It's just a statement."

"I am certain there are more sensitive ways of stating such a thing." Isidore urged anxiously.

The corner of Dean's lips twitched, as if he was amused by the concept she was posing- or maybe just amused by her, though she couldn't imagine why.

"Dean, what next?" Sam asked from a few feet away, sounding exasperated, though Isidore wasn't sure if it was physical or mental exhaustion. Probably both, she settled on. "I told you, I need to be back by Monday."

"What's going on Monday?" Emillyn inquired, perking up curiously from her spot on the railings.

"An interview for a big, fancy law school- Sammy goes to Stanford." Dean stated, there was venom in his mouth as he said the words, rather than the pride one would expect. He was afraid, Isidore figured, the two had mentioned they were brothers only recently reunited in the car- when the four officially introduced themselves. She guessed he didn't want to be without his brother. And law school meant leaving.

"Stanford?" Emillyn repeated in surprise, "That's, like, an Ivy League."

"You must be very smart." Isidore agreed gently, though she had no idea what 'Ivy League' meant.

"If only he'd put his brains toward something actually useful." Dean said bitterly, glaring daggers at his brother.

"Not everything is about hunting, Dean! I gave it up!" Sam shouted defensively.

"It's not some job you can quit, Sammy." Dean said lowly, Isidore could see his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles were becoming a bright, pale shade. "There's no boss to call. It's a lifestyle- _your_ lifestyle."

"No, Dean. It's yours and Dad's. You're both so obsessed with finding the thing that killed mom as if it'll bring her back. She's dead!" Isidore felt herself wince at the statement- she really didn't feel comfortable standing on the sidelines of something so obviously personal.

Dean grabbed Sam's jacket roughly, pushing Sam up against the bridge. He stared up at Sam, anger carved deeply into his boyish features, "Don't say shit like that about her."

"Are you two done fighting?" Emillyn cut in, "Interview or no interview, we have a hunt to do."

"You stay out of this-"

"Guys…" Isidore interrupted Dean, her voice barely above a whisper. Her dark eyes were locked with the sad, hypnotizing ones of Constance Welch, who stood barefoot on the railing of the bridge.

"Holy _shit_." Dean whispered roughly, the four arranging themselves beside one another as they stared at the girl.

Constance leaned forward taking a step off the bridge and plummeting toward the water.

"No!" Isidore cried, running to the railing and holding tightly to it. She watched with a horrified expression, staring at the water underneath the bridge. She knew this was one of her biggest flaws- she had trouble detaching herself from the things that they were hunting. Sympathy for the Devil, some would say. The thought made her reach her fingers up to settle themselves over the lump in her sweater which hid a tiny, gold cross necklace.

The other three followed quickly behind, crowding together around the spot on the railing where Constance had just previously stood. Her presence seeming to still linger eerily- maybe from the lack of splash.

The sound of a revving car broke the silence of the group, bright headlights shining like a spotlight on the four and illuminating the entire bridge. Emilyn turned her head to Dean, "What the fuck was that?"

"Dean, who's driving the car?" Sam asked.

Dean slowly reached his hand in his pocket, dangingling his car keys in the air.

"Holy shit." Emillyn whispered.

The car started up, moving toward them on it's own at a fast pace that only seemed to be increasing. The light inside the car revealing for certain that it was empty. Isidore reached out, grabbing the first thing she could find- Dean's arm- instinctively. "Run." She told the group.

The four turned on their heels, bolting down the bridge, Emillyn a stride ahead of the others. Sam jumped off the side of the railing, keeping a firm grip. Emillyn followed suit much more gracefully, seeming to hold herself up on the bridge easily. Dean grabbed Isidore's wrist, "Ready to jump, princess?"

Isidore shook her head violently, "No- Dean do not dare-!"

Dean ignored her protest, pulling her over the side of the railing. Isidore attempted to grab the side of the bridge but they fell far too fast. Isidore felt herself scream out and the brief thought that Constance must have felt like this just before she was alive crossed her mind, before she was absorbed by water.

* * *

Isidore came out of the motel bathroom, a room previously occupied by Sam and Dean's father, feeling fresh and renewed. She had buttoned up a far too large green and blue flannel passed down to her by one of the Winchester boys when she'd gone in for the shower and pulled on a spare pair of black leggings up underneath it. Even after an hour of scrubbing, though, she could still feel the amount of mud that had been crusted onto her body by jumping into the river. She cursed Dean for pulling her down with him, but appreciated the fact that he'd taken the brunt of the fall.

"You alright?" Sam asked from the other side of the room, studying a group of papers plastered in the wall that were connected by a thick, red string that John Winchester had apparently set up. John Winchester had the case supposedly figured out- a Woman in White after unfaithful men. Isidore wasn't certain she understood- why would this man up and leave a case behind that he apparently had thoroughly figured out?

"Yes, thank you. The dirt has found its way out of my hair." Isidore assured, unwrapping the towel from her head to let her damp, thick locks of dark hair fall free. "Where is Emillyn? And Dean?"

"They just stepped out before you. Said they were hungry." Sam explained, finally tearing his eyes away from the research. "Are you? Hungry, I mean?"

Isidore shook her head, "No, thank you." she said, then became very aware of her vibrating finger tips, "Coffee, though- that might be nice."

Sam's lips twitched into a smile, "Yeah, caffeine isn't such a bad idea-" He startled when his

phone rang, and quickly pulled it out of his pocket.

"Dean?" he asked into the phone, sounding disappointed at the fact. His expression slowly changed, "Shit. Yeah, okay. Isidore and I will go question the husband. Hang tight, alright?" He turned off the phone, cursing again under his breath.

"Is something wrong?" Isidore asked, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

"Cops caught our lie- and your friend's lie. Emillyn and Dean are being taken into custody." Sam explained.

"Oh- oh no. What do we do? H-how can we h-help them?" she stuttered out nervously, glancing anxiously between Sam and the motel window where she was almost certain she could see the police car in the parking lot.

Sam relaxed slightly and chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, "Dean'll figure it out, he's not helpless. Neither is your friend. I'll call some fake crime in and you and I will go ask Constance's husband some questions." Isidore gave him a nervous look, fidgeting with her fingers. Sam headed for the motel door, "C'mon, we'll get some coffee on the way."

* * *

"I hate you." Emillyn said for the umpteenth time, giving Dean a pointed look as the officer left the two handcuffed in the station to respond to a call. Only a roughly used journal, apparently previously owned by Dean's father, sat on the table in front of them.

"Oh, please. Is this really your first time in handcuffs?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at the blonde girl. "You're at least thirteen, you should've done this at least once by now."

"I'm not thirteen!" Emillyn hissed back, "And no, I haven't been arrested, not everyone spends their time pretending to be a fuckin' US Marshal, you asshole."

"You were pretending to be a friend of a dead kid." he argued.

"Friend of a dead kid doesn't come anywhere near equivalent to posing as someone in a government position." she shot back, slumping in her seat, "I really was hungry."

Silence fell over the two for a long moment, before Dean chuckled. "Top ten worst things that ever happened on a hunt?"

"This is certainly one of them." she said back, her annoyed look cracking into a smile. She looked at the journal on the table, "So your dad left that for you? Coordinates or notes or something?"

"Yeah, he must've really wanted me to see it, too. My dad takes this thing everywhere with him." his features fell slightly, obviously crossing into deep thought territory.

She didn't want to interrupt him but she was quite tired of being a sitting duck. She grabbed for the paper clip holding the pages of John's journal- removing the handcuffs from her wrists with a little bit of effort.

"That call the officer got- it was your brother, huh?" Emillyn questioned as she worked the handcuffs off of Dean's wrists.

"Yeah, we have plans A through Z for shit like this." he said, rubbing the spot where the handcuffs had just been.

"This happen often? You getting arrested?" she responded, leading the way out of the room and heading for the door of the police station. He grinned over at her, shrugging his shoulders. She rolled her eyes. "And Sid and I are the amateurs?"

"You're new to this. You'll be handcuffed plenty of times, trust me."

"Lookin' forward to it, Dean-O."

* * *

Isidore sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, flashlight pointed at the map in front of her. Constance Welch's old home where she drowned the children was circled in red marker. Their interview with her husband hadn't gone well- he'd basically threatened to call the cops if they didn't leave- but they got the confirmation they needed that he was unfaithful. Constance Welch was certainly a Woman in White.

"Who is Jess?" she asked suddenly after a particularly long stretch of ongoing road.

Sam glanced over briefly, Isidore noticed the way his hands kept going back and forth between grips on the wheel- he was deciding carefully what to say. "How'd you know about Jess?"

"I heard you calling her." she noted softly, wringing her hands. She suddenly felt very rude for even bringing it up, "I'm sorry- it is none of my business. I just… heard you calling her. It sounded like you care for her."

Sam took a deep breath, relaxing his hands slightly, "I do. I love her. I love so much it hurts." he admitted, the words sounded so genuine Isidore's own heart felt warm.

"Does she know…?" She asked softly, leaning her head against the cold window of the car. She tried to imagine dating under these conditions- the hunting conditions. It made her body shake with nerves- or maybe that was just the natural shaking.

"No. And I don't ever want her to. This life… it's like a disease. Spreading. Feasting." Sam said through a tense jaw, his eyes glued to the road.

She nodded once in agreement. There was nothing about that she could deny. Her own life had been consumed by this lifestyle. So was Emillyn's. Isidore thought there was no way she could pull away from this life- knowing what she knew. She'd never feel safe or comfortable. But she kept that to herself, not wanting to upset him with her own concerns. She was sure Dean gave Sam enough grief on the subject as it was.

"Take me home…"

A soft, creeping woman's voice spoke from the backseat. Isidore felt the hairs on her arms raise immediately as Sam brought the car to a screeching halt. Both looked into the the rearview mirror, seeing the pale face of Constance Welch staring back at them.

Sam moved for the car door, but it locked on its own quickly.

"Take me home." Constance drawled, much more menacingly.

" _No_." Sam said firmly.

As if on autopilot, the Impala revved back to life, speeding down the road. Isidore turned herself, looking over the seat, "Constance, stop." she begged.

"Isidore don't talk to it" Sam said firmly, pulling her back.

Constance glared back at Isidore. The car came to a jarring stop in front of an old, barely together house with festering wood planks. The door on Isidore's side opened and an invisible force shoved her out of the car effortlessly. She felt the back of her head smack against a rock on the ground and let out a soft cry of pain.

She heard Sam cry out from inside the car and snapped upright, ignoring the stinging pain in the back of her head. She scrambled to her feet, pounding on the window. "Sam!" she yelled. She looked around frantically, kneeling down and grabbing the rock she'd fallen on. She extended her hand, smacking the window with the rock tucked firmly against her palm. The glass shattered around her- Isidore could no longer tell if the blood covering the rock was from her head or her hand.

Constance shoved her fingers into Sam's chest, her horrifying face just inches away from Sam's.

"Isidore! Move!" Dean's shout felt distant and before she had any time to react herself Emillyn jerked her roughly out of the way. The sound of a bullet firing blared and Isidore reached her hands over her ears. One after another shots were fired till Constance's figure was no longer lurking over Sam.

Isidore could just barely hear Sam mutter something about 'home' before he pressed roughly on the gas pedal, driving the car through Constance's house. The sounds of falling wood louder than the bullets.

"Sam, you crazy son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, rushing after the car.

"C'mon." Emillyn said quickly, she grabbed the hand Isidore had that was and punctured by glass and led her after the car as well.

The three rushed to Sam's aid, forcing the Impala door open so they could help him out of the car. Sam was groaning in pain, his arm slightly stuck behind the car's steering wheel.

"Fuck." Emmilyn breathed out. Isidore turned and gasped. Two wet, child shaped figures stood holding hands at the top of the stairs. Pools of water falling around the wood.

Constance passed the four, not sparing them a glance as she raised a hand and a large, heavy dresser slid over- pinning the door between it and the car.

"You bitch!" Dean yelled, squirming uselessly. His face went red from the strength he was exerting to try and get the dresser off of himself and the others.

Isidore couldn't squirm- she didn't even feel like she could move. She felt a hypnotic need to stare at the sight in front of them. The kids had trailed down the stairs. The look Constance gave them was fearful- desperate. The two dark, small figures wrapped their arms around the woman's waist.

The screech Constance let out was agonizing. Isidore would have moved her hands to her ears had they not been pinned under the dresser.

The sight was haunting, a dark portal opening underneath the spirits. Blue fire raising up and around them till it engulfed them completely, pulling them down into the hole underneath them.

And then moments later it was gone- only a dark, damp spot left in the place of the three. The four exchanged looks, taking a deep breath and moving the dresser away from themselves.

"That another everyday hunting occurrence?" Emmilyn asked with a breathless laugh.

"No. Hell no." Dean replied heavily, looking to Isidore and Sam. "You two alright?"

Isidore and Sam glanced at each other, then nodded. "Nothin' we can't get over." Sam spoke.

"Good. Great. Well, you won't get over how much I'm gonna kill you both if anything happened to my Baby." Dean snapped, turning all his attention onto the car.

Isidore felt herself laugh lightly without meaning to.

* * *

"I am sorry Sam left, Dean." Isidore told him softly as the two sat in the driver's and passenger seat. She felt heavy. She'd only known Sam over a span of 48 hours and yet she felt like she was losing something a lot more than that. The three sat, still parked, outside of the apartment complex Sam has just disappeared into. Isidore glanced down at her bandaged left hand which was already beginning to scar over underneath it.

"Yeah, well, you got us!" Emillyn reminded perkily from the backseat, a grin on her face. "Though I still don't see why I can't have the front seat."

"Do you even make the height limit to be out of a booster seat?" Dean asked, shooting a smile at the blonde girl.

"Fuck you." she replied, though her smile didn't falter. "Don't make us rethink helping you find your dad."

Dean's expression changed immediately at the mention of his dad. He took a deep breath, looking between both girls, "You two sure you want to be in on all of this?"

"Of course-" Isidore started, but she interrupted herself as a frown slowly fell on her face, "Do you smell…?"

"Smoke." Emmilyn said seriously.

Dean's eyes widened, "Sam."

The three hurried out of the car, rushing into the building. The smell of smoke was certain now as they made their way up the stairs in the dark.

"You stepped on my foot!" Emillyn hissed.

Dean ignored her, throwing the door of Sam and Jess's apartment open. Sure enough the flames were taking over the room, as if they were encased only in here. The rest of the building seemed to have remained untouched- that was even more unsettling.

"Sammy!" Dean called, heading to his brother's side quickly.

Sam's eyes were focused on the ceiling, a kind of terror filled them that shook Isidore to the core. She slowly trailed her eyes to follow his sight, quickly covering her mouth, "Oh my God…" she whispered, her breath shaky.

A young, blonde woman appeared to be pinned to the ceiling. The blood that soaked her white gown giving the unshakable impression that her stomach had been cut open. Sam seemed to have blood on his forehead- Isidore didn't want to make the connection of where the blood came from.

Emillyn pulled Isidore out of the apartment behind Dean and Sam. Isidore could hear the painful sobs of Sam repeating Jess's name over and over, fighting hard in Dean's grip to try and go back to her.

"Sam! _Sam!_ " Emillyn cried as they shuffled out of the apartment building, "What the hell went on in there?" Blaring sirens could already be heard, approaching from the end of the street.

Dean looked back to Emillyn and Isidore, his features sad and shoulders hunched as he still kept a firm grip on Sam, "That's what happened to our mother." he said seriously, "Whatever killed her killed Jess."


	2. Phantom Traveler

**A/N: Wow, welcome back. This is for you Harmony.**

Isidore had never been to a funeral.

Emillyn helped explain to her that you needed to wear black for such an occasion, it symbolized that you were in mourning. Emillyn, Dean, and Isidore had no clothes nice enough for such an event, so Dean rented a suit and Emillyn and Isidore bought nice, black dresses with the help of a fake credit card Dean had. So on the morning of the wake, the two spent much more care than usual on their face and hair, smoothing out the dresses carefully. Sam helped Dean get a tie on while Dean fussed about the discomfort he felt wearing a suit. Emillyn didn't look so comfortable herself, though Isidore had a feeling that it was much more contributed to the tension the morning of a funeral came with.

Isidore was used to being quiet, she'd felt she'd been quiet her whole life. But she had barely said a word the entire morning. She could hardly look at Sam, he seemed to radiate with an aura of pain wherever he walked. She remembered him telling her how much he'd loved Jess. He blamed himself for keeping this life from her. Dean was sad too, Isidore knew, though he kept it much more stifled. He had to be strong for Sam- but this thing that killed Jess was the very same that killed his mother. That seemed to bring back unwanted memories.

At the actual funeral, the four remained off to the side. The family was mourning over an empty casket that was to be buried in the ground- as no remnants of Jess had been left to find in the midst of the fire. They could hardly hear the words the man was speaking from where they stood on the sun grazed, green grass field of the graveyard, but it didn't matter. Isidore kept her left hand over the cross necklace she wore, twirling it between her thumb and pointer finger. Clinging to the concept that God would accept Jess lovingly, keep her safe till Sam was ready to come back to her.

When the muffled sobs started, Dean set a careful hand on his brother's shoulder reassuringly. Emillyn looped her arms hesitantly around one of Sam's, leaning against him. Isidore slipped her right hand into his left, lacing their fingers and squeezing gently. She wasn't sure when it began but the four of them were all crying together. Isidore with silent tears falling down her cheeks. Emillyn much more obviously, her rounded cheeks reddened from the crying. Dean only let one or two fall, but his eyes remained stung and tinted with the ones that were held back.

The event seemed to be over far too quickly. Before they knew it people were turning away from the casket now lowered in the ground, chatting amongst each other as they made their way back to their cars. Until only the four of them remained. It was then, when no one was left to watch, that Isidore and Emillyn almost simultaneously turned together, wrapping their arms around the tall Winchester. Dean looked reluctant, as if the moment was too revealing for him, but seemed to convince himself eventually as his arms joined the hug.

Isidore had never been to a funeral and she hoped to never be at another one.

* * *

Emillyn stared mindlessly at the decaying wood walls of the dingy motel lobby, keeping the sugar container turned upside down and letting it pour at full force into her styrofoam cup of coffee. Sam bumped his shoulder against her's, causing the container to slip from her hand and fall onto the counter and spill its contents.

Her head snapped up, looking at him. "Why even drink the coffee? Just bring the sugar container with you." he said.

"No can do, Bean Pole, I need the energy." She replied with a casual wave of her hand, slowly gaining an upbeat tone. The past few weeks had made being the group's optimist much harder on her.

His eyes softened, as if he noticed the strain. "You okay?" he asked the smaller girl, capping the styrofoam cups for Isidore and Dean.

"Isn't that more a question for you?" she asked, though she kept her eyes focused on the coffee cup in front of her.

"I'm not the only one allowed to suffer." He reminded, grabbing two of the coffee cups as she grabbed the other two. "Loss resurfaces other loss. Have you lost someone?"

She frowned deeply, considering what would be the best to say. She considered a few options, finally speaking, "My parents. I lost them the same time I started hunting."

"I'm sorry." he said sympathetically, walking alongside her as the two headed back for their motel room. "Was it, you know… supernatural?"

"Yeah." she responded shortly, hoping the fact that she didn't want to continue the conversation got through to him. The silence that followed indicated he'd gotten the hint.

As they climbed the shaky stairs up to their motel room, he spoke once more, "So Destiny's Child is breaking up." He offered casually.

Emillyn let herself exhale, glad for the topic change, "It's Beyonce's time to shine." she stated matter-of-factually.

"She won't make it far without Destiny's Child."

"You take that back right now." she shot back, pushing the cracked motel door open with her foot.

Dean met their entrance with a pointed knife and a panicked expression, Emillyn admitted there was something impressive about his reflexes. Isidore, who was sat at the edge of his bed reached a hand out, slowly lowering his arm and taking the knife. She gave an apologetic look to Sam and Emillyn.

"You two are already awake?" Sam asked with a surprised tone, handing Isidore her coffee cup. She accepted it quickly, taking a large gulp as if it were her lifeblood.

"Pretty sure I'm the only one who slept at all." Dean said, taking his cup from Emillyn. "You and shortstop were up till 4 AM watching infomercials,"

Emillyn chuckled fondly, "What can I say? I like to watch people fail at their everyday lives. It's simpler."

Dean cocked an eyebrow toward Sam who shrugged, "Riveting TV." he argued. He looked over at Isidore, "No sleep for you either?"

Isidore looked up from her already finished coffee cup, her hands still trembling around it, "Not quite." she admitted.

"Well what's keepin' you all up?" Dean asked casually, receiving surprised looks from the other three. The answer felt obvious- _was_ obvious. "What?" he said with a shrug, "You can't bring this stuff home. The fear. The nightmares. It'll eat you alive."

"Oh come on, you've never been scared?" Sam said, his eyes flickering to the knife still on Isidore's lap.

"Precautions." Dean insisted, "You all should take them if you're smart."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam shot back, "Precaution-"

Isidore rubbed her face, shutting her eyes tightly, "Please. Let's not fight this early in the morning." she begged.

Dean and Sam exchanged guilty looks, interrupted by Emillyn's chipper voice, "Isidore's right. We deserve a relaxing day-"

She was interrupted by the shrill ring of Dean's phone, which she countered by sighing dramatically and flopping back on the bed, smacking into Dean. Dean shoved her off the bed with a loud _thump_ , answering the phone on speaker.

"Dean Winchester? This is Jerry Panowski, you and your dad helped me a while back."

The four glanced between each other, frowning deeply. There was no chance of a rest day today.

* * *

Dean opened the door of the Impala, handing over one of four fake Homeland Security IDs to Emillyn, who looked over her's with a whistle, "These look amazing."

"Yeah, well, you can't rush perfection." Dean said with a wink, receiving a dramatic eye roll in response from Sam.

Dean held out an ID to Isidore, watching as she slowly reached her hand out and took it with a gentle hand. "Hey, are you okay?" Dean asked, looking over her with concerned features, "You seem off your game."

Isidore met his eyes, shaking her head slowly, "It's nothing… I think I'm just a bit sleep deprived." she said.

Dean opened his mouth to say more, to express worry for the quiet girl, but was interrupted by Sam replaying the audio from the plane crash that Jerry had given them. Jerry had explained the situation, a freak accident- an emergency exit ripped open while the plane was in the air, killing all but seven of the passengers. The audio from the plane had been messed with a hundred times by Sam, but this time was different. At first far the audio was far too scratchy to make out anything, but then they all heard it- a clear, guttural voice saying 'No survivors'.

"What the fuck was that?" Emillyn shouted as Sam replayed the audio once more. "Don't play it again! That's some next level ghost shit!"

"I think it's more than ghost shit." Sam said, a firm frown on his features.

"'No survivors'?" Dean repeated, "But there were seven of them."

Sam shrugged, "Sounds like a death omen. There's plenty of lore to back up death omens with things like this- flights, boats…"

"That phantom flight from way back, they used stray parts of another plane and the pilot from that one haunted it." Emillyn interjected. Sam looked to her, surprised, "What? I read."

"We need to talk to the survivors." Isidore said softly, twirling the ID in her hands, "Ask them what they saw."

"Survivor Max Jaffrey may be our best bet to talk to. Checked himself into a psychiatric hospital, so if anyone saw anything weird it had to have been him." Sam suggested. "But the one who opened the door of the plane, George, he had a wife."

"Well, you and firecracker can check out the wife. Isidore and I will handle Max. Sound like a plan?" Dean suggested.

"Hell yeah, The Dynamic Duo!" Emillyn exclaimed, offering a high five to Sam.

Sam looked her up and down, shaking his head, "We're not on that level."

* * *

Isidore offered an arm to help balance Max, who was struggling to keep himself walking with the cane in his hand. Dean stood on the other side, walking with the two. "I don't understand." Max said, his eyes meeting with Isidore's, "I already spoke with Homeland Security."

"New information came up." Dean explained, "We were told to go over some witnesses again."

"How are you holding up?" Isidore asked gently, looking over Max with worry, "You checked yourself in, correct? The trauma must have been hard."

"I was just stressed." Max insisted, "The plane crash- it was a lot to go through. I needed time away."

"Uh-huh." Dean said disbelievingly, "And that's all that startled you? The plane crash?"

"I-I don't want to talk about this anymore." Max stuttered out, fear evident in his tone.

"You don't have to." Isidore said softly, receiving a disapproving look from Dean, "We just want to help as best we can. There are things that don't add up about the crash. If you can offer some information, we'd appreciate it."

Max seemed to relax slightly, Isidore had that effect, "I had to be delusional…" he said slowly, "The man he- he opened the emergency exit of the plane. Like it was nothing and his eyes they…"

Max's voice trailed, but Isidore could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had the increasingly sinking feeling she knew what caused this, and she wasn't prepared to face it. She was only faintly aware of the next words that confirmed her suspicions - 'they were black'.

"I'm very sorry." Isidore said softly, "I left something at the car." she slowly pulled away from Max, heading across the grass fields lining the hospital. She felt as if she were walking on a cloud, barely aware of her movements.

"Agent-" she heard Dean call after her, but she continued her movements. She felt as if she were losing air as she gripped at her sweater, leaning back against the Impala and shutting her eyes tightly to ward away the tears that threatened to follow. She couldn't do this. She couldn't face a demon.

" _Isidore_." Dean's voice cut through her panic, his hand touching her shoulder. Slowly she opened her eyes, feeling the sting of the tears she'd held back. "What is going on?"

"I- I can't do this. I can't." she said quickly, the panic raising all over again. Dean looked over her with concern, finally deciding to pull her into a tight hug.

"Okay, okay, calm down." he soothed, "I need you sharp, sunshine."

Isidore returned the embrace, nodding, "I know- I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Bad choice of words. Just- let me know what's up so we can work this out." Dean insisted.

Isidore felt guilt pang in her chest, Dean was worried and he already had plenty on his chest. She needed to collect herself. She took a deep breath, "I'm fine…" she assured softly, "This case is just heavy. The trauma, all the death- it's a lot. Silly soft heart…" _Heavy?_ Her mind screamed _It's a demon._

Dean gave her a disbelieving look for a short moment, but to her relief he cracked a smile, pulling away from the embrace and ruffling her hair, "Right. And we all appreciate your empathy. But if you need to sit this case out…"

"No." she said quickly, "I mean- I can help. I want to help."

He nodded once, "Well, we got more information from Max. Black eyes, maybe some sort of spirit."

Isidore had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from wincing, "Maybe."

* * *

"I hate this fucking suit." Dean complained as the four approached the sight of the plane wreckage.

"Dude. You've been complaining the whole way here. We get it." Sam said.

"I'm with Dean." Emillyn agreed, adjusting her tie with a grimace, "This sucks."

Isidore cracked a smile, trailing behind the rest of the group. She agreed, though silently, the suits were stiff, itchy, and uncomfortable but she had more pressing matters on her mind. They were dealing with a serious case here- one she wasn't sure even Sam and Dean were ready for. But she couldn't bring herself to speak up on the matter. Even after Sam said he and Emillyn had no idea what this could be either and the wreckage would maybe give them more clues.

When they entered the warehouse, flashing their IDs to the security guard, he cocked an eyebrow. "Quite a few of you tonight, huh?" he asked.

Sam gestured to Emillyn and Isidore, "These two are in training. We're showing them the ropes."

"It's always been my lifelong dream to see the wreckage of a crashed plane." Emillyn said dramatically, receiving harsh 'cool it' looks from Sam and Dean.

"Uh, congratulations?" the security man said hesitantly.

"Thank you, thank you." she replied, scampering further into the warehouse. Isidore shot the security guard an apologetic glance, following along between Sam and Dean.

"Could you have been any more dramatic?" Sam asked.

"Sam, c'mon, we've known each other for a month now. I absolutely can be." Emillyn replied with a shit eating grin.

Isidore walked alongside Dean, looking over the various parts from the wreckage. Dean pushed his hand in his coat pocket, pulling out a very fragile looking device from his pocket. Dean must have noticed her confused expression, because he smiled, showing it off, "EMF. It reads electromagnetic frequencies-"

"Yes, um, I know what an EMF is." she assured, her brows furrowing more, "But that… doesn't quite look like any I've seen."

"It's homemade." Dean said proudly, "I used an old walkman."

"We can tell." Sam and Emi said in unison, sharing a laugh.

Dean lost his proud smile and Isidore gently set a hand on his arm, "I think that's neat." she assured, glad to see a proud smile returning to his face.

Sam ran his finger along a piece of metal that spiked the EMF, causing a loud whirring noise, "Yellow dust." he said, showing the group.

"Sulfur." Emillyn answered, covering her nose.

"Demons." Isidore croaked softly, causing the other three to turn their heads in surprise. She looked down, fidgeting with her tie, "It has to be a demon. Sulfur, the black eyes Alex mentioned…"

"You already knew that." Dean said softly, "At the hospital…"

She nodded once, "I just didn't want it to be true. Demons, they're the real thing. Not some simple hunt."

Sam seemed to have something to say, opening his mouth, but the four were interrupted by doors slamming open.

"We need to go." Emillyn told the four, already on the move, "Now."

* * *

The motel was filled with a rigid silence as the four searched through everything they could on demons. Isidore was having a particularly hard time sifting through the information, images and words triggering memories she'd hoped to keep as far down as possible. Emillyn shifted slightly, setting a hand over Isidore's.

"Sid, I know this case is really getting to you, but you seem to know more about demons than any of us." Sam said slowly, closing his dad's journal. "If you can tell us more…"

Isidore nodded once, slowly closing the screen of Sam's laptop and gently moving it aside. "This is demonic possession." She explained, "The man who Alex said opened the emergency exit was able to do so because of the demon. Some thrive off of disasters like the crash. 'No survivors'," she hesitated, biting down on her lip, "Most likely means the demon plans to go after the ones that made it out of that crash."

Dean sighed heavily, pushing his hair back, "Fuck, man."

"Guys are we seriously taking this on?" Emillyn said, her voice sounding the least confident Isidore had ever heard of it. "Aren't demons serious shit? Like 'watch the world burn' kind of fuckers."

Isidore nodded with a frown, "She's right." she said softly, "I'm not sure we can…"

Her trailing voice was interrupted by another shrill ring of Dean's phone, causing the four to startle. Dean answered it quickly. Hearing only one side of the conversation left the room gaining more and more tension, as Dean's voice became more and more solemn. Finally he hung up, slowly lowering the phone.

"Chuck Lambert is dead, another plane crash." Dean said, looking at Isidore.

She took a deep breath, "Maybe we can't do this." she admitted, all four shifting uncomfortably, "But if we don't try. More die."

"So let's try." Emillyn spoke after a beat of silence, a shaky but determined smile returning to her face, "Together, right?"

"Together." the four agreed.

* * *

Sam rubbed his face, hanging up on yet another survivor of the crash. "Blaine and Dennis aren't flying, but Amanda is still a wildcard." he said turning to look and Isidore and Emillyn in the backseat.

Dean groaned, tapping his hands anxiously to the beat of the song softly playing through the radio, "We haven't convinced her not to go through with this eight o'clock flight?" he asked, flipping the car around in a sudden u-turn and pressing firmly on the gas pedal.

"Dean, we aren't making it to that flight. The drive's over five hours."

"Well if he keeps driving like a crazy bitch we'll get there just fine." Emillyn hissed from the back seat, clutching onto the seat.

"Easy! You're going to rip the leather!" Dean scolded.

"Won't mean much if you kill us!" she shot right back.

"Have some faith, I'm a kickass driver."

* * *

"Are we really getting on this flight?" Dean asked, shifting his eyes. Multiple attempts to pull Amanda off of the flight had been thwarted, the girl was determined to return to her job- she had an iron will, that much was clear.

"What else are we supposed to do?" Sam responded, "You heard Sid, if we don't get on that plane it crashes and more people die."

Dean looked anxiously around the airport with a frown, seeming to avoid eye contact. As if a lightbulb appeared over her head Emillyn suddenly exclaimed, "You're afraid of planes!"

Dean shushed her, "Not so loud!"

She stifled a laugh, "Sorry, sorry. It's just- you kill monsters and flying is too much?"

"It's never been an issue before now." he defended with a frown, "Why do you think I drive everywhere?"

Sam held a hand up, calming the two, "Okay, okay. We don't have time for this. Dean, you can stay on the ground and we'll take the plane."

"What? No!" Dean exclaimed.

"Dean, we can either go together or without you. There isn't really a third option here." Isidore told him gently, "We understand if you're scared, I'm scared too."

"Then Emi and Sammy can take the plane and we wait behind." Dean suggested, "They can take it."

Isidore shook her head slowly, "You know I can't do that." she replied, "I have the most experience with demons. I can help, whether I'm scared or not."

Dean's eyes seemed to soften as he looked at the girl, sighing deeply, "Okay, okay, you're right. Let's just get on that fucking plane."

"Way to go, Dean-o." Emillyn cheered, slapping him on the back surprisingly hard, "Courage saves the day."

* * *

On the plane, Emillyn and Sam sat at the end of the row, whispering a low conversation. At the very end of the row, Dean was humming a familiar tune under his breath as the plane rumbled. "Are you humming Metallica?" Isidore asked.

"I'm so proud you know that now." Dean praised, wiping a mock tear from his eye, "And, yeah, it calms me down."

She returned the comment with a smile, "You're doing well so far-"

The plane entered turbulence and Dean let out a squeak, grabbing onto her arm, "Come on man, that can't be normal!" he hissed, glaring at Emillyn and Sam who were laughing behind their hands, "Both of you shut up."

"Alright, alright" Emillyn said, still chuckling, "When do we take down the dem-"

She was interrupted by Sam elbowing her, "Cool it with the supernatural talk. People will hear you."

"And what?" she shot back, "Think we're cultists?"

A woman from the row ahead of them turned her head, giving the four a concerned look. "Sorry, lady." Dean spoke, "Our little sister's been watching a lot of paranormal documentaries. She loves weird horror."

Emillyn nodded eagerly along, "Can't get enough of it. I'm gonna find a demon on this plane."

The woman gave a shaky smile, concern not fully leaving her face, "Well, good luck with that." she said, slowly turning back around.

Emillyn opened her mouth again, "Alright, so who do we think is possessed?" she asked, making a slight effort to lower her voice.

"Amanda?" Isidore suggested, "She's the survivor on the plane."

"No, I talked to her earlier. Even used 'Christo' like you said." Sam said, "I'm not sure anything's getting into her."

Dean pulled out his makeshift EMF, subtly moving it around the area. "Maybe this demon decided to take a day off."

"Man, I want a day off." Emillyn said with a wistful sigh.

"I don't think that's the case." Sam remarked flatly.

"Well not with that attitude."

"Guys." Isidore spoke, nodding her head toward the EMF's whirring. The four watched as the copilot of the plane made his way down the hall, "Christo." Isidore whispered.

The copilot turned his head violently, the four watching with their breath held as his eyes flickered back and he disappeared into the cockpit.

"You two were saying?" Sam said, tilting his head toward Emillyn and Dean. "What's the game plan?"

Isidore spoke up once again, "Emillyn and I will go to the back of the plane, if you two can get the copilot back to us, we can start the exorcism. Sam, you have your father's journal?"

Sam nodded, "The page is marked." he explained, holding it out toward her.

Isidore pushed it gently back toward him, "I know it. But if the demon stops me during the process, you or Dean will need to continue."

Dean and Sam nodded, understanding the plan. The two rose from their chairs, heading toward the cockpit. Isidore and Emillyn stood after them, making their way toward the back of the plane, closing the curtain.

"Sid, are you sure we can handle this?" Emillyn asked, twirling the holy water nervously in her hands.

"I hope so." Isidore responded softly, "I have your back."

Emillyn nodded, seeming relieved by the words, "I have yours too." she assured.

Isidore smiled thankfully for a moment, the two turned as the copilot of the plane was roughly shoved behind the curtain. Dean punched the man hard in the jaw, pinning him to the ground and roughly smoothing duct tape over the man's mouth. Emillyn took over, getting down on her knees to keep the man held down.

Isidore turned to Dean, "Stand outside the curtain with Sam, make certain no one gets through."

"But-" Dean started, interrupted by the man struggling and Emillyn tossing holy water on his face. A loud sizzling echoed off the walls, the man's skin seeming to boil.

"Dean, I need to get this started." Isidore said quickly, "If we need you. We'll call."

Dean took a moment before nodding hesitantly, turning on his feet and leaving through the curtain. "Sid, I'm gonna need you to hurry up with the latin." Emillyn hissed, struggling to hold down the possessed man.

Isidore nodded, getting on her knees as well to help hold him down. " _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica…_ " she recited quickly.

The man lurched up, throwing Emillyn back against the wall. Isidore shifted, moving to help Emillyn, but found a tight hand wrapped around her arm. The man's eyes flickered to black, staring into Isidore's as the grip tightened, "Isidore, Hell remembers you well." he hissed.

Emillyn moved off the wall, kicking the man back. "Sam!" she called.

Dean and Sam quickly entered through the curtain, Sam scanned the words on the page for a moment before starting to recite the words.

"Sam!" the demon exclaimed, "Welcome to the party! I know your girlfriend, Jessica. She's burning- she's still burning! Screaming!"

Sam stared at the demon, obviously stunned. Emillyn moved from her spot, pulling Sam away from the demon.

"Give me the book!" Dean shouted, grabbing it from Sam's frozen hands. In broken latin, he continued.

The man yelled out, thick, black smoke leaving his mouth and rising to the top of the plane.

"Holy shit." Emillyn whispered, "Is it _in_ the plane?"

Isidore rose to her feet shakily, she could still feel the burn of the demon's touch on her arm. "We need to finish it." she said, rushing through the curtain with the four. The moment they stepped foot outside, the plane started to shake violently. Dean screamed out, trying to grab onto the wall of the plane behind him, John's journal flying out of his hands.

Emillyn ducked and rolled, grabbing onto the journal that fell. "Where were we? _Where were we?_ " she hissed out, frantically looking over the words and starting to scream out the latin. As she finished, the rocking of the plane seemed to stabilize.

"Is everyone alright?" a passenger called out anxiously as things calmed down.

Isidore looked back at Dean, who was still anxiously grabbing onto the wall behind him. She let out a breath, "You faced your fear."

"Yeah- yeah." Dean said, his voice cracking, "Never doing that shit again."

* * *

"Thank you for the help. John was right to tell me to call you." Jerry told the four as he led them to the Impala, he'd been waiting for the flight to land.

Sam immediately perked up, "You spoke to our dad?"

"Well, not directly. His message gave me Dean's number." Jerry explained, smiling as the four stopped in front of the Impala, "Thank you again for the help."

The four all nodded, sharing a 'no problem' and 'you're welcome', they watched Jerry turn and head for his own car. The moment he'd gotten into the car, they all shared a look.

Dean quickly pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, dialing in his father's number. The four listened as the phone rang and rang with no answer. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached." the group all straightened, sharing looks of surprise, "If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

Sam was the first to react, turning away and entering the car, slamming the door behind him. Dean sighed, slowly making his way into the passenger seat. Emillyn and Isidore shared a moment of staring at one another. Emillyn broke the eye contact first, turning toward the car.

"Emi, wait." Isidore said, stopping the girl in her tracks. "What the demon said, on the plane… can we not tell Sam and Dean?"

Emillyn adjusted, "Sid, maybe we should…"

"They already have so much on their plates. I don't want to burden them more." she explained softly, "Please."

Emillyn looked unsure but nodded, "Yeah, of course. Our secret."

"Our secret."


	3. Skin

**A/N: Here we go again.**

"Blue shell! BLUE SHELL!" Emillyn's shriek echoed off of the motel walls. The blonde was sitting beside Dean, the two crowding around the DS in Dean's hands. It had been a random find, left behind at a motel room they'd stayed at for a hunt a month back. Since then it had become passed around by the four, it only had two games with it- Mario Kart and Animal Crossing, still they made good use of it.

"I see the shell!" Dean yelled back, his fingers aggressively touching the buttons of the gaming system.

The sound of a tiny explosion came from the speaker, resulting in a loud "Fuck!" exclamation by the two.

"You have to be more strategic!" Emillyn insisted, grabbing the DS roughly from Dean's hands.

"Strategic? It's fucking Mario Kart! You just drive like hell!"

"That's loser talk. Let me show you."

Across the room, Isidore was sat at the end of a bed with her legs folded, idly listening to the screaming match between Dean and Emillyn. On the opposite bed, Sam was focused on his laptop.

"What are you up to?" Isidore asked curiously, turning to look at the tall Winchester.

Sam blinked, slowly looking over at her, "Emails." when she raised an eyebrow, he finished, "They're from my friends back at Stanford."

Dean tore his eyes away from the DS screen to speak, "Seriously? You're still talking to those guys?"

Emillyn had a surprised tone as well, though she didn't look up from the screen, "What exactly- Shit! - do you tell them?"

Sam shrugged, "That I needed some space after Jess's death so I went on a road trip with my big brother."

Dean snorted, "Some roadtrip."

"Well, it's good to have all the friends you can, right?" Isidore offered, receiving a thankful smile from Sam.

"But it's hard." Emillyn said with a solemn hint to her voice, "You just can't keep normal people in your life… not without lying or dragging them in."

All three shared concerned glances, surprised by the seriousness of the ever-plucky Emillyn's comment, but seemed to agree silently now was not the time to press. Dean spoke up after a beat of silence, "She's right, you're just going to keep having to lie to them."

"What am I supposed to do? Cut everyone out of my life?" Sam defended.

"I'm sure that's not what Dean means." Isidore assured.

"Actually, that's exactly what I mean." Dean said, "I know it sucks but it's the truth. In this life you just can't get close to people. At all."

Sam just scoffed in response, returning to reading the emails. Isidore thought for a moment about Dean's words, she hadn't really known anyone besides the three she was sharing a room with since becoming a hunter. And while she hated the idea of anyone having to give up friendship, the memory of Jess's death and the sobs that came from Sam made her wonder if perhaps Dean was right. But then again.. the brothers were close. The four were close. The thought of something like what happened to Jess happening to one of them made Isidore's heart ache.

"Shit…" Sam whispered. "Friend of mine from school, Zack Warren, has apparently been charged of murdering his girlfriend. He swears he didn't do it but the police have a good case."

"Couldn't find any hunting friends at Stanford so you chose the next best thing, huh?" Dean joked, earning a chuckle from Emillyn.

Sam ignored the comment, rubbing his face, "I knew Zack, he's no killer."

"You believe he didn't do it?" Isidore asked.

"I _know_ he didn't do it. Zack was a friend, a good one. We have to go to California and help him." Sam said.

"Sammy this doesn't sound like our thing." Dean replied, "Plus I need to keep kicking ass at Mario Kart."

"Losing, you mean." Emillyn reminded with a laugh.

Dean punched her arm, "Whatever. Plus we were going to work with that possible case in Bisbee."

"Dean, this is my friend. That makes it our thing." Sam insisted.

Dean hesitated for a moment, before letting out an exasperated sigh, "Alright. We'll leave in the morning."

* * *

"This is it." Sam told Dean. Dean nodded once, pulling over the car to the side of the curb. The four all looked out the window, staring at the house blocked off by caution tape.

Sam had spoken to Zack at his current holding cell before his court hearing. Sam had relayed the information he received to the other three, explaining that Zack had been visiting with his sister the whole time this was happening, shown up to find his girlfriend tied to a chair beaten and bloody and not breathing. When the police arrived they'd arrested Zack, they had footage of him coming to the house and his DNA was all over the murder scene.

The four decided the best course of action was to check out the scene themselves. They exited the Impala, ducking under the tape and heading through the door. Isidore gasped at the sight, in the living room was tossed about furniture and blood splattered all over from the floor to the walls.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Emillyn muttered quickly, covering her mouth, "I need some air." She added before making a beeline for the door.

The remaining three looked around the house, studying the scene. "Sam." Isidore said, "You mentioned Zack got his clothes stolen the week before."

"Yeah." Sam replied, "Zack said he didn't think much of it, he filed but apparently this neighborhood's been having a lot of robberies recently."

"This still doesn't sound like our thing." Dean said, leaning against the overturned, bloodstained couch.

"I'm not sure." Isidore remarked, "Not only does it seem that Zack was in two places at once, his clothes were stolen? Maybe someone- something was impersonating him."

"What, like a doppelganger?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That sounds like our kind of problem." Sam noted, looking at Dean.

"Probably not." Dean replied, folding his arms, "But maybe we should look at the security tape. You said you grabbed it?"

Sam nodded, obviously pleased Dean was interested, "It's back at the motel. We can watch it there."

"Good, let's get out of this place." Emillyn said, slowly stepping back into the house, still covering her mouth.

"C'mon, shortstop, a little blood never hurt anyone." Dean teased.

"A lot of blood can." Emillyn muttered under her breath.

* * *

"Alright, beers for everyone." Dean said, passing out the brown bottles. Emillyn reached out for her's and Dean yanked it back, "Are you even old enough to drink?"

Emilyn snatched the bottle back, "We've had this conversation a million times. I'm twenty-one, dude."

Dean responded with a grin, settling down on the floor with the other three and crowding around the laptop to watch the security tape. "Alright Sam, roll it."

Sam nodded, tapping the mouse. The four watched the video closely, Dean was the first to make a comment as they watched Zack enter the house, "Timestamp says this happened just after ten, time of death was ten thirty."

"Yeah, that's when Zack called the cops." Sam said, replaying the tape again.

"Wait, did you see that?" Emillyn asked, moving her hands over the keyboard. She paused the video, pulling back a few seconds. "There."

Isidore studied the stop tape, noticing the apparent silver eyes of 'Zack'. "Camera flare?" Dean suggested, though he was obviously taken aback.

"More like a window to the soul." Sam muttered, "A lot of cultures agree a photograph has the power to capture a glimpse of the soul."

"The stolen clothes." Isidore reminded softly, "It's possible this is some kind of, what's the word…"

"Doppelganger." Emillyn answered, "This might be some freak double."

"That would explain the whole two places at once defense Zack had." Dean admitted.

"That's kind of kickass." Emillyn commented, taking a sip of the beer. She made a face, lips pursing. "This tastes like shit."

"That's the appeal." Dean said, tipping the bottle toward her before taking a long swig.

* * *

Isidore smiled up at Sam as he handed her a coffee cup, taking a seat across from her at the only coffee shop they'd managed to find open at five in the morning. Unable to sleep, Sam had proposed they get coffee, a suggestion Isidore could never deny. So they took the car, leaving a sleeping Emillyn and Dean to get a few hours of shut eye.

The two shared a comfortable silence at first, gulping down their usual straight black choice in coffee. After she'd finished her's, Isidore spoke softly, "Are you worried about Zack?"

Sam looked up from his coffee, nodding once, "Yeah." he admitted, "But, that's not all that's on my mind."

"What do you mean?" Isidore asked, tilting her head slightly.

"I mean from what we've found his girlfriend was killed by something supernatural…" Sam trailed off, tapping his fingers against the table.

Isidore's confusion lasted a beat, followed by the realization of what Sam was implying, "Oh, you're thinking of Jessica."

Sam nodded, roughly rubbing his face, "Yeah, I mean- it's stupid. In this life we lose people…"

"It's not stupid." Isidore assured, "You loved her."

"I did." Sam said, his voice barely over a whisper, "And in the back of my mind, I thought coming here… back to California, it'd be like she was here again."

"Does it feel that way?"

"No." he answered, sighing deeply, "It feels like she's more gone than ever."

Isidore reached over the table, gently intertwining her fingers with his, "I'm certain she's watching over you. Keeping you safe."

"What does it matter if I couldn't keep her safe?" he asked, his eyes filling with pain.

"I'm not sure." she admitted softly, her dark eyes meeting his, "But what I do know is even after Jess's death, you're staying strong- helping people. She's proud of you, I'm sure of that."

Sam cracked a smile, pulling his hand from hers and wiping at his eyes, "Thank you."

Isidore almost returned the smile but instead her eyes widened, "Oh my God." she gasped.

"What? What is it?"

"The footage- the double Zack, he never left the house." Isidore stuttered out, "The police wouldn't have looked."

Sam's eyes lit up, "The backdoor. The shifter may have left a trail."

Isidore nodded, the smile finally coming to her face, "We're going to prove your friend's innocent."

* * *

Emillyn and Dean were awoken by the harsh noise of ambulance sirens, the red and blue flashing, brightening the motel room. Emillyn groaned, tossing a pillow in the direction of the noise which effectively served to smash against Dean's face.

Dean returned the favor, tossing a pillow hard enough to knock Emillyn off of her sitting position.

Emillyn groaned, pulling the pillow she'd been hit with over her eyes to block the light. "Damn ambulance. It better be murder." she muttered roughly.

The comment sat with the room for a moment and the two shot up, realizing that after Zack's girlfriend it may really be that.

"Fuck. Okay. Let's roll." Dean sighed, running his hand over the bedside table. "Wait- where are Baby's keys?"

Emillyn rubbed her eyes, "Probably with Sam and Sid."

Dean looked around, only just aware of the missing presences, "Dammit."

"Soooo… walking?" Emillyn suggested.

"What are we? Heathens?"

"We could fly."

"Fuck you."

The two quickly pulled on jackets, having passed out in their clothes and headed out of the motel room. Happy to see the flashing of ambulance lights from just a few blocks down the road.

Emillyn shoved her hands in her pockets, pulling the hood of her sweater over her head.

A sigh came from Dean, "Look, I'm not good with the chick flick talk. But do you need to talk?"

Emillyn turned her head with surprise, "Talk? About what?"

"You know.. the other night." Dean explained awkwardly, "You seemed to be talking about personal shit. All that 'lying and dragging people in' crap."

She frowned deeply, turning her head away, "Well, it was nothing you weren't saying too."

"Well yeah, but we don't exactly see you get serious very often." Dean pointed out, he really wasn't good at this.

"It's easier not to be." she said simply, "Can we not talk about this?"

Dean almost gave in, but stopped himself, "No. We can't. Something about it is eating at you. Remember what I said about not bringing that shit home? So lay it out, right here."

Emillyn sighed, "This life I'm living now? It took my family away from me." she said, "The same way it did with you. So I think you're right, it's a dumb idea on Sam's part to stay involved with his normal life."

Dean hesitated, not sure of how to respond, "Uh… well, I'm sorry. About your family. Do you need a hug?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Are you offering?"

He rolled his eyes, "One time opportunity." he said, opening his arms, "Move it or lose it."

Emillyn's face broke into a grin, moving to share a tight embrace with the Winchester.

* * *

As Sam and Isidore approached Zack's house, they put the car into a stop, climbing out. Dean rushed over, setting hands on the car, "Oh, Baby. Was Sam good to you?"

"I know how to drive, Dean." Sam reminded.

Dean continued to look over every part of the car, licking the tip of his finger to rub at a scratch that clearly wasn't there. He straightened up finally, brushing himself off, "Well, remember when I said this wasn't our sort of thing? It's definitely our sort of thing."

Emillyn nodded, "Man's wife was murdered just a few blocks away. The man said when he entered the home he literally saw himself. Police think he's a nutjob."

"We figured out something too." Sam said, "The footage never caught Zack leaving the house. And the police wouldn't have looked."

"The backdoor?" Emillyn asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"That's what we suspect." Isidore answered, ducking under the caution tape and lifting it for the other three to get through.

"You guys ever dealt with something that changes forms before?" Emillyn asked, looking around the outside of the home.

"Nah." Dean said with a shrug, "I'm sure dad's journal has something."

Isidore studied the backdoor of the home, as she and Sam had expected there was a trail of blood outside of the door, but it ended abruptly.

"Did this thing fly away?" Dean asked, looking up into the air.

"I don't think so. Look." Isidore said, gesturing her head toward the manhole.

Emillyn's features scrunched up, "You think it went in the sewer?"

Sam let out a disgusted noise, "Down the rabbit hole we go, I guess." He muttered, leaning down to move the cap of the hole to the side. Slowly he lowered himself down the ladder, followed by Emillyn, Dean, and Isidore.

"God, it smells like shit." Dean groaned.

"Imagine that." Emillyn said, earning a glare from him.

"Guys." Sam interrupted, shining a light toward a pile of something resembling shedded skin.

"Disgusting!" Emillyn gasped, then looked to Dean, "I dare you to touch it."

"No!" He shot back.

"C'mon. Do it."

"Oh dear." Isidore whispered, "Look." she motioned for Sam to shine his light a few feet ahead, revealing another pile of shedded skin.

"Shit." Sam cursed, "So assuming its only caused the two murders…"

"Its changed again." she finished, looking at him worriedly.

"That's so gross." Dean said with a laugh, causing Sam and Isidore to turn and look back at Dean and Emillyn. The visual of Emillyn touching the pile of gooey-textured skin made it clear that the two hadn't been listening.

Sam cleared his throat loudly, and Emillyn and Dean looked up, quickly trying to get into a position that made it look like they'd been listening. Emillyn, with no subtly, reached a hand out and Dean grumbled, pulling a crumbled ten dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it in her open palm.

"Only ten dollars?" Isidore couldn't help but ask.

"He said 'bet you wouldn't do it for ten dollars'." she replied, "What was I supposed to do? Back down?"

Isidore smiled slightly, amused by the comment, "No. I guess not." she noticed Sam's still serious look and awkwardly adjusted her tone, "We should head back to the motel, we need to research what we're dealing with."

* * *

"Alright, everyone understand the plan?" Dean asked, cocking the gun in his hands.

"Not much of a plan." Emillyn muttered, fidgeting with her own gun, "We split up to cover separate parts of the sewer system- Scooby Doo style- since that always works out for them."

"First off, nice reference." Dean said with a grin, "Second off, it may not be a great plan but it's the plan we're going with. Silver bullet to the heart everybody" He cocked an eyebrow at Isidore and Sam, "You two alright with this?"

Sam nodded, looking at his gun very seriously, "Let's kill the son of a bitch."

Isidore nodded once, "And the backup? Meet up at the motel if all else fails."

Dean winked, "You got it. Alright, good luck, gang."

The four shared looks, having a silent conversation- the kind that meant 'come back safe'.

* * *

Emillyn walked along the sidewalk, gun at her side in preparation for the shifter. It was hard, studying a sea of faces, but she remained focus.

"Emi." a voice spoke, startling the blonde.

She turned on her heels, letting out a breath of relief when she saw Dean. "Dean, what are you doing? This is my section of the sewer system."

"Yeah." Dean said with a grin, rubbing the back of his neck, "I got lost."

"That fast?" Emillyn responded with a laugh, "I took you for someone with a better sense of direction." her fingers gently traced the carvings in her gun.

Dean shrugged, "It happens." he said, turning around, "Point me in the right direction and I'll be on my merry way."

The sound of a gun cocking filled the air, Dean slowly turned around to see Emillyn's pointed gun. "Nice try, 'Dean'."

Dean put his hands up slowly, "What the hell are you doin', shortstop? Calm down."

"You're the shifter." Emillyn hissed, gently brushing her finger over the trigger of the gun.

"You believe that enough to shoot me!?" he yelled, "Cool it!"

Emillyn hesitated for a single second, all the time it took to be knocked to the ground by the shifter.

* * *

Emillyn blinked awake, her head slowly tilting back to let her eyes adjust to the situation. She was met with the eyes of the shifter, still wearing Dean's appearance.

"Emi! You're awake!" she heard, and turned her head slowly to see Sam looking at her with surprise.

"Sam?" Emillyn gasped, "Where's Dean?"

"'Where's Dean'?" the shifter mimicked tauntingly, "Right here. For now."

Emillyn glared, "When I get out of these binds so help me I will clock your ass."

"Don't think you'll have much of a chance." the shifter replied, "I was just on my way out. I have so many interesting memories in this skin… I thought my family was fucked."

"What do you mean 'memories'?" Sam asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

The shifter grabbed its head, eyes shutting tightly. It seemed to be in pain, slowly lifting its head again. "He's got problems with you two, you know." he looked between Sam and Emillyn, "The boy who went off to college and left him alone. The girl who has no reason to be in this life."

"Where is Dean?" Sam repeated seriously.

"I _am_ him." The shifter said, "I'm just jealous of you two. You had normal lives- a chance to get out. I'll never have that."

"What are you talking about?" Emillyn asked.

"I'd love to stay and chat more, but I have plans to carry out." the shifter said, "I may be a monster, but my life isn't it without perks. You know, I get to meet the nicest people."

* * *

Isidore fumbled to grab her motel key, taking a deep breath inward. She hadn't heard from any of the other three and after two hours of searching she was beginning to be filled with worry. The motel key holder flashed green and Isidore slowly turned the door handle.

"Hey, you're back." Dean's voice spoke. Isidore let out a breath of relief, quickly rushing over to him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Isidore asked, looking over him with worry. "You didn't answer my calls."

"Lost my phone." Dean said with a shrug, "Sam and Emi went to get food, figured we'd all regroup and talk plans to take down the shifter."

Isidore furrowed her brow for a moment, Sam and Emillyn hadn't answered her calls either, but Dean seemed sincere and she hoped to ride the deep sense of relief she was feeling to see him safe. She gently sat down on the motel bed, rubbing her face, "I didn't find anything on the shifter."

Dean lowered himself next to her, "Neither did I. But we'll figure it out."

"I'm worried." she admitted, "About Sam. If he doesn't help his friend he's going to blame himself. He needs this win."

Dean set a hand on her shoulder, "And he'll get it." he assured. Isidore looked up at him, watching Dean seem to flinch in pain, rubbing his face roughly.

"Dean? Are you alright?" Isidore asked, setting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean nodded, his eyes filled with a sudden intensity looking over Isidore. "You know, I remember you."

Isidore raised an eyebrow, "Remember me…?"

"We knew each other briefly, I didn't know you were a hunter then." Dean said slowly, leaning forward.

Isidore backed up slightly, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"It was at a bar. You were swaying to some song playing. I bought you a drink…" Dean trailed.

Isidore blinked, the memories slowly filling her mind. She'd been hunting on her own then, Dean has been a friendly green eyed face- all jokes and charisma.

Dean reached out a hand, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear, "You were something special."

Isidore made a movement to scoot back once more, but was stopped by Dean grabbing her wrist roughly. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Dean, let go." Isidore said quickly, moving her free hand to reach for the gun in her jacket.

"It's fine… we have time before Emi and Sam-"

She interrupted him, whipping out the gun from her jacket and pointing it at him. "You're not him."

Dean's eyes flickered silver, "You figured it out. Smart girl." He thrusted his hand forward, twisting her wrist that held the gun. Isidore let out a cry of pain and he quickly pinned her down, "Not fast enough, though."

* * *

"Ha!" Emillyn cheered, rubbing her rope burned wrists as she managed to worm out of the bindings.

"Alright, now come get me." Sam said.

"On it." she replied, quickly hurrying over to unbind Sam.

"Sam? Emi?" a voice called out in between coughs, "That better be you two and not that sick freak."

Emillyn and Sam shared relieved looks, quickly rising and hurrying over to the opposite side of the sewage room. Emillyn moved to undo his bindings.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, cutting her way through the ropes with a pocket knife.

"Sure." he replied, "Except a monsterous maniac with my face is on the loose."

"Not just your face." Sam said, frowning, "Dean, the thing _was_ you. Thoughts, feelings, memories."

"What the hell? Like some sort of psychic connection?" Dean asked.

"It would explain why it didn't kill you. It needed the link." Sam offered.

"Yeah, but it said it had plans. What does that mean?" Emillyn wondered.

Dean frowned deeply, lifting out of his bindings and looking around the room. "Where's Isidore?"

Sam and Emillyn's eyes widened and Dean cursed. The three quickly rushed for the door, running through the underground sewers.

"We need to call the cops." Sam suggested as they hurried through the winding paths of the sewage system.

"Are you fucking kidding? And put out some damn search for me?" Dean asked.

"The cops can get to Isidore faster than we can. We don't even know the way back to the motel." Sam insisted.

Dean groaned, "Shit. Fine."

* * *

Isidore let out small, shallow breaths, struggling with the bindings keeping her tied to a chair. Blood was everywhere she looked and the bruised parts of her body ached. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, struggling to keep from crying in front of the shifter.

"Isidore, I hope you'll forgive me." the voice of the shifter, still wearing Dean's face purred, "I think you're a really nice girl. You'll be dead in a few minutes, though."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked softly, "All those people…"

"They think I'm a freak anyway. Might as well embrace it." it said, slowly picking up a knife off of the motel bed.

"The thing you are isn't making you a monster." she said softly, her voice just above a whisper, "It's what you're choosing to do." her comment was met with a jarring punch, causing her to spit out blood.

"You don't know anything about me." it hissed, roughly grabbing her jaw.

She met its eyes, fidgeting with the ropes keeping her hands tightly tied behind her back. She rubbed her wrists slowly up the ropes, feeling them slipping slowly. "Please…"

"You're begging now?" it asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She took in a sharp breath, punching it roughly in the stomach at her full force. It let out a grunt of pain, knocking back off its feet. She moved quickly, untying her ankles as fast as she could and rushing over to the bed. She made a move to grab the gun but was pulled off her balance by the shifter.

"Oh, I'm going to make this a slow death bitch." it growled out.

She could feel the pain in her body searing but she continued to move, kicking his ankle out from under him and picking up the gun. She stood over the shifter, her fingers brushing over the trigger.

"Don't shoot- Sid, don't do it." it cried, sounding more like Dean than it had since she entered the motel.

She hesitated but only for a moment, "I'm sorry about this." she whispered, the loud gunshot shaking off of the walls.

* * *

"Thank you, Ms. Alexander." the police officer said, "That's all the questions we have."

Isidore sat across from the police officer in a room for questioning, anxiously tapping her fingers against the table. She'd answered everything briefly and vaguely, her mind was fogging, still pounding from all the cuts and bruises on her body. The image of its- Dean's- dead body in front of her, blood all over the motel room.

"Can I go?" she asked weakly, "Please?"

"Yes, of course." the police officer said, gesturing a hand toward the door, "Right this way. Do you need help moving?"

She shook her head once, slowly standing up from her chair. "No- thank you."

The walk through the police office felt long, every step resulting in a jolt of faint pain up her body. But the light from the outside was strong and she was met with the smiling faces of Emillyn and Sam.

"Sid!" Emillyn gasped, running full speed toward the other girl and wrapping her in a tight hug, "I'm sorry we weren't there. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." she assured softly, "But you're crushing me a bit."

"Sorry." Emillyn apologized quickly, gently pulling away from the other girl.

Isidore looked up at Sam, smiling gently, "Your friend. He got off, they found the murder weapon back at the sewers."

Sam sighed in relief, moving to give the girl a gentle hug, "That's good. Thank you."

"Where's Dean?" she asked.

"Couldn't exactly have him hanging around." Sam said, "He's right around the corner, though."

Isidore nodded, "Do you- would it be alright if I had a minute alone with him?"

"Yeah, of course." he replied, "I was going to to check up on Zack before we leave, anyway. Emi?"

"I'll come with." Emillyn said, gently taking Isidore's hand and squeezing it before following after Sam.

Isidore watched them leave, waiting to see their figures disappear into the building before heading off of the property, walking over to the welcoming appearance of the Impala. She gently opened the passenger door, slipping in.

Dean looked over quickly, his features filling with concern as he saw her appearance, "You look like hell."

"Feel like it too." she admitted with a soft chuckle, "But it's nothing that won't heal."

"Isidore, I'm sorry-"

"You don't need to apologize." she assured, "I took care of it, I just- wanted to talk to you."

Dean nodded, waiting for her to speak. "Dean, I know it wasn't you, but.." her voice was hesitant and shaky, "It _was_ you."

"Some sort of psychic link." he explained, "It had my thoughts… memories… but it wasn't me."

"I know- I know." she assured, her breath starting to reach a panicked pace, "But when I pulled the trigger. When I saw it dead… I could only see you."

"Hey." he stopped her, "You didn't kill me, okay? And if I ever did something like this- hurt you like this. I'd want you to fight back."

She shook her head quickly, "You wouldn't. I was just scared."

Dean opened his arms, giving the girl a small but firm hug, "Well you're okay now. You're safe."

She returned the embrace tightly, shutting her eyes to force back the tears. She was safe. She was home.


	4. Scarecrow

"Alright, a shot to start off with." Dean told the group, pouring tequila into the plastic shot glasses they'd bought from a superstore.

"Dean, let's be slow, okay? We're not trying to fall over drunk." Sam said, scrunching his nose at the strong, alcoholic smell that filled the room.

"That's exactly what we're trying to do, Sammy, we're celebrating!" Dean encouraged, handing over a shot glass to Sam. "Six months as hunting partners."

"Not that I'm not grateful to celebrate," Isidore brought up quietly, taking her own shot in her hand, "But don't people usually celebrate these sorts of things annually?"

"Usually. But we're hunters and who knows if will live to the next year, so cheers." Dean said with a grin as the four clanked the plastic against each other and quickly downed the shots.

Emillyn coughed, "This tastes like window cleaner." she said.

"Couldn't exactly afford anything but the cheap shit." Dean replied with a shrug. "Alright, round two!"

The four laughed together, taking their time to down mixed drinks in between shots. Emillyn and Dean were far ahead of Isidore and Sam, continuously drinking.

"Alright, we're cutting you off." Isidore said, gently picking up the alcohol bottles and shot glasses off the motel floor, "Water."

"C'mon, I'm barely drunk." Emillyn assured, moving to get up and quickly collapsing onto the ground, "Actually, yeah, water sounds nice."

Isidore smiled, "Coming right up, dear." she said, patting Emillyn's head gently on her way over to the motel sink.

"Hey, y'know, I love you guys." Emillyn said with a giggle, leaning back against the motel floor.

"You're also drunk." Sam commented, accepting two glasses of water from Isidore and handing one over to Emillyn.

"That doesn't make me wrong, String Bean." she assured, hugging the water glass to her chest, "You guys are like family."

Isidore smiled softly to herself, "I can make a toast to that." she suggested, holding out her glass of water.

Sam and Dean exchanged one of their silent conversation looks, smiling slowly and holding their glasses out as well.

"That's the spirit!" Emillyn cheered, "To family."

"To family." the four agreed happily, taking a sip of water.

"One more secret right before I pass out on this here floor." Emillyn drawled, pointing to Sam's shirt- a deep purple with a lavender dog embroidered on it, "That is the _dumbest_ shirt I've ever seen."

* * *

In the late morning sun, Isidore stepped over the sleeping, snoring bodies of her three favorite people in the world. She figured the best thing she could do for the impending hangovers was prepare the best hangover cure she knew.

"Isidore?" she heard Dean groan out, looking down as he cracked open his eyes.

"Good morning." she replied, grabbing the pickle jar she'd stowed away into the motel mini fridge.

"Pickles?" he asked with a frown, "That sounds disgusting right now."

"Pickle juice, actually, it's the best hangover cure I know." she explained, gently pouring the juice into the leftover shot cups, "A good friend of mine taught me it."

"A friend of yours?" he sat up slowly, holding his head, "Haven't really heard you mention many people from your past- or anything about it, for that matter."

Isidore tensed ever so slightly, "It's not a very interesting one." she assured, studying the scars on her hands.

"I'm pretty sure that's not true." he remarked with a light chuckle, holding out a hand, "Alright, hand over the juice."

She smiled slowly, kneeling down and holding out the shot cup. Dean took it gently, cringing when he downed it.

"Shit. That's disgusting."

"But it works." she assured, taking the empty shot cup and tossing it away.

From a few inches away the two heard Sam shift and groan. "I'm never drinking again."

"You always say that, Sammy, take some pickle juice." Dean said with a grin, grabbing one of the poured out cups and handing it over.

Sam sighed, drinking it down fast and with a gag. Dean looked over at Emillyn, who was loudly snoring, the most unalert Isidore had ever seen her.

"Sam. Hand me a sharpie, I'm going to draw on her face." Dean said with an outreached hand.

A grin broke across Sam's face and he reached into his backpack a few feet away, tossing a sharpie over to Dean. The three stifled giggles as Dean reached over, slowly moving to draw. They were interrupted, however, by Dean's phone loudly ringing.

Emillyn shot up, knocking the sharpie out of Dean's hands. She frowned down at the object on the ground, "Really? Attacking the weak, Dean? Cheap."

Dean shrugged with a grin. "Speaker!" Sam called out, alerting the two to quiet down as he answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Sam." the voice that came out of the phone made Sam straighten and Dean tense, Emillyn and Isidore shared worried looks.

"Dad? Are you hurt?" Sam asked. 'Holy shit' Isidore watched Emillyn mouth from across the room.

"I'm fine, Sam." the voice, John, said roughly.

"We've been trying to call you. We haven't been able to find you anywhere. If you were okay-"

"Sam. I said I'm fine." John replied in a harsh tone, "What about you and Dean?"

"We're fine too." Sam assured, "Where are you?"

"Can't tell you that."

"What? Dad-" Dean finally spoke up.

"Dean. I can't tell you." John said firmly, causing Dean to immediately shut his lips. The reaction seemed rehearsed, Isidore felt a soft pang in her chest.

"You're looking for it, aren't you? The thing that killed mom? Jess?" Sam asked, bringing the phone closer to his lips.

"It's a demon, Sam."

Isidore tensed visibly, doing her best to push down the immediate panic. She shut her eyes tight for a moment, blocking out the phone conversation. Slowly, she rose up from her spot motel floor. "I'm going to get some air." she told the group in a whisper; she received small, worried nods in response as she headed out of the door.

Isidore settled down next to the door, letting out a shaky breath. She cursed herself internally, she couldn't keep reacting like this every time a demon was even mentioned. She heard the door open and looked over as Emillyn slid down to sit next to her.

"You alright?" the blonde asked, "I know he said demon…"

"I am." Isidore lied, "I was just a little shocked."

Silence fell over the two briefly, Isidore shutting her eyes once more to will away the thoughts that came with demons. She figured some part of her should have known, the horrifying image of Jess' body pinned to the ceiling and engulfed in flames- in her experience, demons fed off that fear. The kind meant to break a person's sanity.

"It felt different, huh?" Emillyn asked after a while, tracing aimlessly with her finger on the cement. "Sam and Dean, they seemed so serious…"

 _They seemed afraid,_ Isidore thought to herself. "Maybe it was just the worry." she offered aloud.

"Maybe… their dad kind of sounds like a dick."

Isidore nodded once in agreement, leaning her head against the other girl's shoulder.

"Do you think everything will be alright? I mean- can we handle something like what killed their mom? What killed Jess?" Emillyn asked surprisingly softly.

"I hope so." Isidore whispered back, looking up at the girl, "What matters most is whatever happens it'll be together, right?"

Emillyn smiled slightly, though the nerves between the two were apparent, "Right."

* * *

"I can't believe we're doing this." Sam said, frowning down at a list of names Dean had given him, "I mean, come on, dad's going to send us on another goose chase of a hunt?"

"It's not a goose chase, Sam, we know that three different couples, three years in a row have gone missing on the same route during cross-country road trips. The second week of April every time."

"Pull over, Dean."

"What?"

"Pull over!"

The Impala came to a sudden, screeching halt, Emillyn smacking against the window in result.

"What the hell?" Dean asked.

"We're not going to Indiana. We're going to California- I tracked Dad's payphone- Sacramento area code."

"Sam-"

"That _thing_ killed our mom- killed Jess. If Dad's going to face it, don't you think we should be there?"

"Sam's right." Emillyn spoke up, causing the other three to look over at her in surprise, "We've been looking for your dad for sixth months, if we know where he is we should go to him."

"Dad gave us an order." Dean reminded firmly,

Emillyn frowned, "Dude, you realize how bad that sounds right? You're his sons, not soldiers."

"She's right, Dean." Sam agreed. "And this isn't just Dad's revenge. It's mine too."

"Look, I get how you feel-" Dean started softly.

"Do you?" Sam asked angrily, taking Dean aback, "You were four when Mom died, Jess only died half a year ago. You don't know how I feel. You've moved on."

"I've moved on?" Dean replied, his tone becoming more aggressive, "You don't know shit about how I feel either, I miss her every damn day. And Dad said it's dangerous so if he says to stay. We stay. All of us."

"Sam. Dean." Isidore cut in, looking between the brothers worriedly, "You both need to calm down."

"Well what do you think we should do?" Sam asked, annoyance in his tone.

Isidore shrunk in her seat, the question fueling her nerves, "I, um… I think we can really help people with this case." she stuttered out, "And if staying away keeps you and Dean and Emi safe…"

"She's right." Dean agreed.

"Why do you have such blind faith in him!" Sam shouted.

"It's called being a good son instead of a selfish bastard!"

Sam looked shocked at the words, turning and getting out of the car, slamming the door behind him. The three exchanged looks, also climbing out of the car. Sam shuffled through the trunk, shoving items into his backpack.

"This selfish bastard is going to California." Sam said, slamming the trunk back down.

Emillyn let out a deep sigh, "Yeah, so am I." she said.

"Wait." Isidore interrupted, looking at Emillyn with sad eyes.

"Sam can't go to California by himself. Especially if this demon is there." Emillyn said, taking Isidore's hand, "And you need to stay with Dean. We can protect them both better this way."

Isidore squeezed her hand, "If you go- just please come back safe, okay? You and Sam."

Emillyn nodded, linking their pinkies for a moment before gently letting go and heading after Sam.

"I'm going to leave both of your asses!" Dean shouted.

"Counting on it!" Sam yelled back.

Dean let out an angry sigh, opening the door of the Impala and slipping back into the driver's seat. Isidore watched the two walk away for a moment longer before slowly slipping into the passenger seat.

* * *

Dean sighed deeply, glancing down at the cellphone on the seat between he and Isidore.

"You could call." Isidore suggested softly, keeping her eyes glued to the road in front of them. The car ride had been almost completely silent for an hour, only interrupted by Isidore giving directions and the soft music playing from the radio.

"He should call." Dean muttered with annoyance.

She leaned her head against the cold window, "Have you two ever fought this aggressively before…?"

"Only a few times." He admitted, sighing, "Last time was when Sam left for Stanford."

"But he came back."

"I made him come back." he said, his hands tightening around the wheel. "I dragged him back in. Away from the peachy college life."

"Dean, you asked for help from your brother." she reminded, "That isn't a crime."

"But what happened with Jess…"

"That was the demon. You didn't kill Jess." she looked over at him, "Sam's glad to be with you. We all are. I just think if Sam doesn't help your dad with this demon he's never going to stop blaming himself for what happened."

A silence fell over Dean for a long moment before he finally spoke, "Yeah, maybe you're right." he let out an exhale, "What about you and shortstop? Have you been together a long time?"

"Sort of. We did a lot of hunts together in the year before we met you two." Isidore smiled to herself, those were times she hadn't reflected on in a while. "We ran into each other on the same hunt and it just kind of worked out. She's amazing, you know? Strong, confident, optimistic."

Dean laughed, receiving a surprised look from Isidore, "You two are funny. It's strange- but you fit together perfectly."

"I think most people would say the same about you and Sam."

Dean smiled slightly at the comment before loosening his hands on the wheel, "All this feelings stuff is making me hungry. Want to catch a bite?"

"Sure." she agreed, looking down at the map in front of her, "There's a diner a few miles up ahead."

* * *

"God, I can't believe Dean!" Sam shouted, dropping his bags on the side of the highway.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Emillyn asked, setting her stuff down as well and taking a seat on the grass. "We aren't going to get anywhere on foot, might as well rest."

"I just can't stand his behavior, you know? He called me selfish." he said, plopping down beside her.

"He's angry." she replied, pulling at the fraying strings on her bag. "He said things he didn't mean."

"I don't get how he can have so much faith in our dad. He's always been like that." he sighed out.

"Well it sounds like your dad has a hold on him." she admitted with a frown, "I know it's not my place to ask but is John… I don't know- a good dad?"

"He does his best." he answered quickly, as if he'd rehearsed it, "I mean, he had his bad moments. But he's our dad."

She nodded slowly, leaning back in the shade of the trees beside the highway, "I get it." she said, a frown forming on her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Isidore and I have been doing hunts together for a long time." she said, "It feels weird not being there to protect her if something goes wrong."

"Well, Dean's with her, and he's the best damn hunter I've ever known. Even if I'm pissed, that much is true."

"But he's even better with you." She pointed out, looking over at him, "The same goes for me and her. She's the calm to my storm."

Sam thought on the comment, she had a point. Emillyn and Isidore worked well and balanced one another, the same way he and Dean did- usually. "I'm sorry." He apologized, "I know you two got dragged into our family matters."

Emillyn held a hand up, stopping him, "Hey, woah. No apology needed. You're our family. Besides, I agreed with you."

He smiled slightly, "Yeah, you did."

From a few feet away the two saw the approaching figure of a young, thin blonde girl with a pixie cut. She was focused on her music, listening with headphones in loud enough so that as she approached the two could hear. When the girl saw their curious faces, she took out an earbud and frowned, "What?"

"Um-" Sam started to respond nervously, interrupted by the quick thinking Emillyn.

"Do you need help? You're out here all by yourself." She said.

"No, I'm good. Thanks." The stranger replied shortly, looking down to switch the song.

"Where are you headed?" Sam asked awkwardly.

"Why would I tell you? You both could be some kind of freaks." Sam and Emillyn shared surprised looks at the venom in her tone, "You're hitchhiking."

The two furrowed their brows in response. "So are you." Sam pointed out, earning a small laugh from the other girl.

The three were interrupted by the sound of a large truck's horn, the older man inside leaning over to open the door, "Need a ride?" He asked.

"Yes." The three responded in unison.

The trucker shook his head at Sam, "Not you, the beautiful ladies."

Emillyn made a face in response and Sam stepped in front of her on instinct. The strange girl seemed unphased, however, climbing into the truck.

"You're trusting him and not us?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Certainly." She replied, slamming the truck door set right as the trucker began to drive off.

* * *

"You got the pictures of the missing couple?" Dean asked, looking over to Isidore who held the requested items in her hands with a smile. "Alright, anyone asks, I'm John Bonham, you're Moe Tucker."

Isidore tilted her head, "Are those band people?"

"Correction, sunshine. They're _legends_." he said with a grin, climbing out of the Impala and closing the door behind him.

She smiled softly to herself, following behind him. The diner, Scotty's Café, was small, but rather homey. Outside of the white, painted wood building was an older man with a scruffy appearance.

"Scotty?" Dean asked, pointing from the sign to the man. The man nodded once, "I'm John Bonham and this is my girlfriend Moe Tucker."

"The drummers from Led Zeppelin and Velvet Underground?" Scotty asked with a raised eyebrow. Isidore looked at Dean, stifling a giggle. "What can I do for you two?"

"Oh, we were just stopping to grab a bite." Dean said, "And to ask if you'd seen two friends of ours." Isidore held out the missing persons photos, watching as Scotty studied them.

"Nope. Haven't seen them." He answered after just a moment, holding the photos back out. "Have a good meal."

Isidore folded the pictures back up again, she and Dean watching the man for a moment before heading into the diner.

Inside the tables were all empty, save for an older couple and a young girl talking happily amongst each other. Dean shot Isidore a 'follow me' look, grabbing her hand and leading her over to the occupied table. "Excuse me, could we borrow a moment of your time?" he asked the table, when he got their attention he smiled, "Are you all locals?"

"We are." The older woman said, glancing at Isidore and Dean's interlocked fingers with an apparent interest, "How can we help you?"

"I'm Moe, he's John." Isidore introduced, "Our friends went missing during a road trip a year ago and we know they came through here. We were just hoping to take a shot at seeing if you recognized them." She held out the folded papers to the woman who slowly unfolded them, looking over them with the man beside her. Both shared a brief look, short enough to be missed.

"I'm sorry, haven't seen 'em." The man replied, beginning to hold the papers back out to them.

"Wait, hold on a second." The young girl said, tilting the top paper toward her, "This man- he passed through the gas station our family owns with his girlfriend. I remember the tattoo." She explained.

"Oh- oh that's right." The woman recalled, "They couldn't have been stopped more than five minutes. Filled up and went on their way."

"Thank you so much, anything helps." Isidore told them with a soft smile, folding the papers back up and slipping them into her jacket pocket,

"Just one more question." Dean said, the older couple seemed to tense at his words, "What's good here? We figured we'd get a meal before hitting the road."

"The uh, apple pie- it's killer." The older man said with a forced smile.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what's going on here?" Dean asked, looking forward at the orchard they were approaching down the road.

Isidore opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by the loud whirring of the EMF in the backseat, startling her. She turned her head around, reaching back to grab it as the device continued to make shrill, continuous noise. The two exchanged surprised looks for a moment as Dean pulled over to the side of the road.

She grabbed the backpack in the backseat, slinging it over her shoulder as the two climbed out of the car. The two stood at the edge of the road for a long moment, staring at the seemingly endless, dark collection of trees ahead of them. Dean sighed out deeply before taking the first step onto the grass, followed just a step behind by Isidore.

The two followed where the EMF signaled, squinting into the darkness of their surroundings. She could just barely make out a figure a few feet ahead, in the opposite direction of where Dean was studying as the two continued to take steps forward. Once the flashlight shone, creating a full outline of the figure ahead, Isidore gasped.

Dean looked over quickly, his eyes landing on what had startled the girl, "What the fuck?"

The closing in light revealed a very disturbing scarecrow. It was taller than the average person, donning tattered, black clothing and a ski mask underneath its black hat. It held a sickle in its hand and seemed to follow wherever you moved- an impressive feat considering it simply had dark holes where eyes would be.

"Wait a minute." Dean spoke, moving to grab a stepping ladder a few feet away.

"Be careful." She told him, earning a chuckle from the Winchester.

"What's it going to do? Move?" he asked, setting the ladder and taking steps up, slowly moving up the sleeve of the scarecrow and shining a light. On the arm, the two could now see a design running up what looked like skin. "Is that…?"

"The tattoo." She finished, holding up the paper for comparison.

He nodded, studying the scarecrow a moment longer, "This thing is fucking ugly." He noted.

"Not pleasant at all." She agreed, watching the dark, pitless eyes under the mask, "Can we please go?"

* * *

"Seriously? Not one bus?" Emillyn asked the man at the bus station desk.

"No ma'am, buses are in for repair." He answered, "Earliest trip to Sacramento doesn't leave till tomorrow evening."

"Are you sure there's nothing- never mind. Thank you." She said with a deep sigh, walking back over to where Sam was sat, propped against a wall in the filled bus station. "No luck."

Sam seemed barely aware of what she was saying, staring down at his phone screen. She glanced over, frowning when she saw his finger ghosting over the button to call Dean. "You could just call him." She suggested as she took a seat down beside him.

He quickly backed out of the contact once he registered what she had said, tossing the phone aside, "No. At least not yet." He said, looking over at her, "Still no trip till tomorrow?"

"Nope. Looks like we're stuck."

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked, and she nodded once, "Why did you take my side?"

"You were there." She said with a confused tone, "We've been looking for your dad all this time it just made sense to not let him slip away again."

"It's more than that." He said, "You were willing to pack up and leave with me, even though you knew you and Isidore would have to part ways to do it."

"We thought we could protect you both better if we split up, everyone has someone watching their back this way." She said with a shrug, but Sam still stared at her intensely, "Fine- okay. I took your side because I know a thing or two about wanting revenge."

Sam hesitated, "Your parents…?"

She nodded once, hugging her knees to her chest, "I took down what killed them and even if it didn't bring them back," she sighed, tightening her hold on her legs, "At least it was something, you know? I hope it'll do the same for you."

"Hey. It's the freaks." A familiar voice said, causing the two to look up. Standing in front of them was the blonde hitchhiker from before, "Turns out that driver was shady." She told them with a laugh, taking a seat across from the two.

Emillyn and Sam exchanged looks, both more preoccupied with what their next move was. The girl spoke once more, "Alright, I'll pose the question from before to you two- where are you headed?"

"California." Sam answered, surprising Emillyn.

The girl's eyes widened, "That's too funny. So am I."

Emillyn's brows furrowed, a natural suspicion forming for the strange girl- something just didn't sit right. "That is funny." She agreed dryly.

Sam elbowed her in response, a frown on his face, "Sorry, my sister's just tired." He apologized to the girl, and though Emillyn was irritated by the scolding movement her heart was a little warmed by being referred to as a 'sister', "This is Emillyn. I'm Sam."

"Meg." The girl exchanged, her eyes studying Emillyn with a certain coldness, "So what's in California?"

"Something we've both been looking for. Seems like forever and we're finally close." He explained, leaning his head back.

"Well, then what's more day?" she asked the two with a curled lip smile, receiving one back from him.

"Excuse me." Emillyn interrupted the two, standing up from the wall and heading in the direction of the bathroom. Once she was out of eyesight she pulled out her phone, shooting a text to Isidore.

* * *

"Who have you been texting all morning?" Dean asked, glancing over at Isidore who's fingers ran over the keys slowly.

"Can you promise not to be upset?" she replied, receiving an annoyed sigh and reluctant nod from him, "Emillyn. She and Sam are alright, but they have to wait till tonight to catch a bus to California. They spent the night in a bus station."

"Doesn't sound much better than sleeping in a car." He muttered.

"Please don't be angry with me." She said, her genuinely nervous tone taking him aback, "I just want to make sure they're safe."

"No, no. I get it." He assured, "You and Emi aren't fighting there's no reason you shouldn't talk to her. And to tell you the truth I'm relieved to hear Sam's safe."

"Maybe we should call him. Get his input." She suggested as Dean parked beside Scotty's Café.

Dean considered the suggestion for a moment before shaking his head, "I should probably give Sam space- and I don't want him to think I'm begging him to come back or some shit." Isidore frowned to herself, watching him get out of the car and taking a moment to send a brief 'Be safe' text to Emillyn before following him into the diner.

The first thing they laid eyes on was a cute couple, being offered apple pie on the house by Scotty. Isidore shot Dean a worried look and he spoke up, "Scotty, mind getting' us two black coffees and more of that sweet apple pie?" he asked with a wink.

Scotty smiled at the two, "Didn't realize you two were sticking around." He said, turning back toward the kitchen.

Dean watched the man go before smiling at the couple, "Hey there, what brings y'all into town?"

"Oh, just a road trip." The woman explained, smiling at her lover, "We thought we deserved a couple's trip."

"Oh, us too." Dean said, grabbing Isidore's hand and taking a seat across from the couple, "Are you just making a stop?"

"Yeah, we stopped for gas- found out we had a broken brake line. The people who owned it just about saved our lives. They're fixing it so we can get out of here by sundown."

"Sundown? Just for a brake line?" he asked, surprised.

The couple nodded, and Dean opened his mouth to speak more but was interrupted by the ringing of a bell signaling that someone had entered the diner. Isidore and Dean looked over to see the man they'd talked to yesterday about Vince's disappearance, now wearing a nametag labeling him as 'Harley'.

"There he is now, our mechanic." The girl said, looking over at him with her boyfriend.

"Good news, folks. Managed to get 'er running early so you'll be set to hit the road." Harley told the couple with a large, sickeningly sweet smile.

"Oh, that's wonderful." She replied, thanking the man, "We can head on our way as soon as we pay our bill, right honey?"

"Right." Her partner agreed, kissing the girl's cheek.

"When you head out, be sure to take the highway opposite the orchard. It's quicker to where you're headed." Harley told them.

Dean and Isidore exchanged subtle but confused looks, after research done by Isidore the previous night both had been certain they were dealing with an angry Pagan God possessing the image of the Scarecrow. She'd found that this little town was the only one for miles with steady rainfall and healthy crops. It seemed like the most apparent conclusion that this town was offering annual sacrifices to keep their town thriving- a couple, a man and a woman.

"John, Moe." The two heard Scotty say, both taking a moment to register the fake names before turning. Scotty smiled at the two, setting down the black coffees and slices of apple pie that had been requested, "I hope you two will stay longer this time, yesterday barely gave you time to savor the pie."

Isidore looked to Dean for direction, a bit at a loss regarding how to react. Dean took the lead, spinning his chair to grab a slice of pie and a fork. "Wouldn't hurt to eat before heading out, right Sunshine?" he asked, looking over to Isidore.

She hesitated before smiling, "Of course not, it is lovely apple pie."

Scotty seemed satisfied with her answer, "Let me know if you two need anything else." He told them, turning on his heels and heading back for the kitchen.

"Oh, and John," Harley said, gaining Dean's attention as he was headed out the door, "If you wouldn't mind you should stop and get some gas before you hit the road. I'd love to take a look at that beautiful car of yours, make sure she's running well."

Dean nodded, forcing a smile and a wave before Harley was back out the door and the smile immediately dropped, "No way I'm letting that creepy fucker look at my Baby." He muttered.

"Do you think that they're…?" Isidore started to ask lowly, trailing off before her final words.

"Planning to sacrifice us?" he replied in a whisper, taking a bite of apple pie, "Yeah, looks that way. But we got a benefit, we know what we're dealing with."

"Sort of." She reminded, "I think we should call Sam, he's the best with lore we know."

Dean watched the girl quietly, seeming to consider the option before nodding once, "Yeah, you're right. But can we at least savor a meal first? Could be our last." He teased, earning a crack of a smile from her. "Just treat it like it's a date, that's what they think anyway."

Her eyebrows raised as she took a long sip of coffee, savoring the warmth, "A date?" she asked, he nodded. "I've never been on one."

He grinned, "Me neither. Hunting doesn't exactly bring up many opportunities." he watched her for a moment, leaning back in his chair, " _But_ , if this were a date, I think I'd ask you about yourself. Which means I think you owe me a piece of that past you won't tell me anything about."

"I told you it isn't interesting."

"And I told you I don't believe that."

She took a deep inhale, slowly setting down the coffee mug in front of her, "You get to ask one question." She told him, "Anything under the sun and I'll answer it honestly."

He seemed to take this proposition very seriously, his face scrunching in thought. His face lit up after a minute, "Your family, what are they like?"

She thought on the question for a minute, a twinge of pain she'd thought she'd dealt with long ago filling her chest. "I wouldn't know." She admitted softly, "I've never met my family."

He looked surprised, "No family at all? Look that don't just count blood there had to be someone who raised you."

"There was." She agreed, tracing the pattern of the tablecloth in front of her with her finger, "But they weren't my family. I grew up in something of an orphanage."

"What do you mean 'something of an'?" he pressed, leaning forward in his chair.

She looked up from the tablecloth once she was capable of reforming a smile on her features, "That's more than one question." She told him.

"That's barely an answer."

"Can I get you two anything more? A refill of coffee?" Scotty's voice cut in, startling both visibly.

"Actually, my love was just about to reveal something quite personal to me." Isidore answered after she'd settled down from the scare, she reached over to take Dean's hand in hers, "If you wouldn't mind, we'd love some privacy." The sweet voice and silently begging eyes of the girl were enough to draw a viewable surprise from Scotty.

"Of course." He told the two, "Just holler if you need something, alright?"

She nodded, giving Scotty a thankful smile as he once again turned away from the two hunters. Dean raised his eyebrows at the girl, obviously impressed, "You got the Sammy-level puppy eyes down."

"Puppy eyes?" Isidore repeated with a tilted head and surprised eyes, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Are you kidding? You don't even know that you're-" halfway through his comment her face broke into a wide girl and he laughed, "You know exactly what you're doing."

"Maybe just a little." She admitted with a giggle.

* * *

Emillyn sat at a table in the bus station with Meg and Sam, the three drinking beers and eating snacks from the various vending machines. She'd calmed down a bit, Meg was funny, all weird quirks aside.

"So, what are you two running from?" Meg asked the two, taking a sip of her beer.

"More like running toward." Sam muttered.

"Our Dad's been telling us to stay away," Emillyn explained, sharing a look with Sam, "But he needs help and he needs us."

Sam nodded, "We're heading to California to meet him. You?"

"Running away." Meg said, grabbing for the bag of Doritos, "My family, I love them. But they don't want what's best for me and I need to do what is best for me, right?"

"Right." Emillyn agreed without hesitation, "Just- keep your family in your heart when you can."

Sam frowned slightly, messing with the label on his bottle.

"Well here's to us, we may not be living a perfect life but we're making decisions for ourselves." Meg said, tipping her bottle toward them. Sam and Emillyn smiled slightly, reaching out their bottles to tap the glasses against one another.

"Emi, can I talk to you?" Sam asked, "Alone?"

Emillyn nodded, smiling at Meg, "We'll be right back." She told the girl, standing up to follow Sam outside of the bus station. "What's bothering you?"

"You know what's bothering me." Sam told her, rubbing his face.

"And you know that I think we should call them. Just to make sure they're safe." Emillyn insisted, setting a hand on his arm, "Look, I'm in support of this trip to California, but they're family and we should check on them. Isidore think they might be dealing with a God-"

"You're talking to them?" he asked, "And you didn't say anything?"

"Correction, I'm talking to Isidore. She's my best friend, Sam, and unlike the two of you we're not fighting."

He sighed deeply, "Are they alright?"

"For now, but like I said they might be handling something big."

He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the ringing of his phone, he looked up at Emillyn, "It's Dean." He said, showing the phone to her.

"Well answer it!" she cried, clicking the button herself and putting it on speaker.

" _Sammy?"_ Dean's voice came through the phone.

"Dean!" Emillyn responded with excitement.

" _Hey there, shortstop."_

"Is Sid with you?"

" _Right beside him."_ Isidore added.

Emillyn sighed happily, "It's so nice to hear that voice, I've been stuck with Sam- ouch!" she exclaimed when Sam smacked her arm, "He's been a peach."

" _Sam, I should really- you know…"_ Dean trailed on the other line, struggling to find the right words.

"I get it." Sam breathed out, "I'm sorry too." Emillyn shot him a smile and thumbs up. "Emi tells me you think you're dealing with a God?"

" _Pagan"_ Isidore's voice spoke up, _"Annual killings, sacrificing to appease- this is the only town for miles with a healthy cycle of rain and farmland."_

" _Plus, the diner we're at has killer apple pie- and I mean that literally."_ Dean added.

"Last meal?" Emillyn and Sam asked together.

"Hold on, they're planning to sacrifice you two?" Emillyn spoke, pulling the phone closer to her chest, "You have a plan to get out of there, right? Sid?"

" _I'm alright, Emi. We can handle it."_ Isidore assured, _"Are you two alright?"_

"Uh, yeah, we catch the bus to Sacramento tonight." Sam told them, guilt in his tone.

" _Well, good luck, man."_ Dean said, sounding surprisingly genuine.

"You too." Sam told him, hesitating before adding, "And look, if you need one or both of us to come down there and help out…"

" _It's okay, Sammy. I'm really proud of you for making this decision, standing up to Dad. You too, shortstop, you picked a side, y'know?"_

Emillyn and Sam smiled slightly at each other, Sam spoke up, "Thank you, Dean, I'm not even sure what to say."

" _Say that you'll take good care of yourselves and you'll call us when you find Dad."_

"We will." Emillyn assured him, "We're the dynamic duo!"

Sam rolled his eyes, "You two be safe." He told them.

" _Sam?"_ Isidore's voice came out softly. _"Can I talk to you privately for a moment?"_

Emillyn straightened, "Alright, that's my cue to go back inside. Bye, Sid."

" _Goodbye."_

Sam waited for Emillyn to enter the bus station, turning the phone off speaker and holding it to his ear, "What's up?"

" _I know we already said, 'take care'. But I need you to take good care of Emillyn for me. She can be impulsive and reckless, and I just need you to make sure nothing happens to her."_

Sam's voice softened, "Yeah, of course I'll take care of her. You take care of Dean, too."

" _I will. You stay safe, Sam. I really hope California holds some closure."_

"Me too." He breathed out.

* * *

"Maybe we shouldn't have called them." Dean said, his fingers anxiously tapping the drum solo to _Moby Dick_ , "Did we sound to needy?"

"We needed to let them know what's going on." Isidore soothed him, checking over the supplies in their bag, "I think burning the scarecrow is our best option."

"It seem a little weird to you that they let us go no problem?" Dean asked, followed by the loud popping of something outside the car. Dean instinctively swerved the Impala violently into the grassy patches just before the orchard. "If that was a fucking tire I'm going to lose my shit."

"So, it's best I don't tell you it almost definitely was a tire?" Isidore asked.

Dean slammed his hand on the wheel, "Alright, let's just get out of the car. We'll burn the bitch and handle this after."

Isidore nodded, climbing out of the car. She studied the wheels of the Impala carefully, "Dean, I think it popped on your side-" she started, before the back of her head was smacked with the butt end of a rifle and her form crumpled onto the ground.

* * *

"Sam." Emillyn said, tapping on his arm to get his attention.

Sam looked up from where he was talking to Meg on the floor, immediately met with the worry on Emillyn's face. He straightened, "What is it?"

"I've been trying to call Isidore for the past two hours, she's not picking up." She told him anxiously.

"Maybe her phone is just off." Meg suggested.

"No." Emillyn replied quickly, "Not for that long. She would have at least sent a text."

"Did you call Dean?" Sam asked, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket.

"I did. Straight to voicemail." She told him, watching as Sam attempted the same feat with the same answer.

"Shit." He cursed, standing up, "We need to go."

Meg stood up quickly, looking between the two, "Wait a second, the two of you are going to leave just like that?"

"We have to. They're our family." Emillyn answered, shoving their scattered things into the duffel bag, "If they're in trouble we gotta save their asses."

"What about your Dad?" Meg asked.

"He can handle himself, always does." Sam spoke, slinging the bag strap onto his shoulder, "Get on that bus, Meg. It's the best option for you."

"I want you two to come with." She tried desperately.

"I'm sorry." He told her genuinely, "But we need to get moving."

* * *

Isidore awakened slowly, met with the fading sunlight over the orchard and a stinging pain in the back of her head. It took a moment longer to become aware that her hands were tied tightly above her head, securing her to a tree; and another moment longer to realize a missing presence. "Dean!?" she shouted out.

"Isidore!" he called back and she whipped her head around as far as she could see, barely making out his figure also tied to a tree a few feet away.

"Are you okay?" she asked, feeling the rope scrape against her wrists as she aggressively fidgeted with the ropes.

"Could be better, not gonna lie." He told her, "They definitely want to sacrifice us."

"Do we have a plan?"

"Uh, I'm thinking." He said, the uncertainty in his voice giving her no hope. "Can you see anything?"

Isidore squinted her eyes, peering into the rapidly approaching darkness, "I see… nothing."

"Well that's just great- wait, I see something." Dean told her, pulling roughly at the rope.

"Dean! Isidore!" the two were filled with an immediate relief at the familiar voice and even more relief upon seeing the shadowy figures become the visible appearance of Emillyn and Sam.

"Oh fuck, I'm so glad to have you back." Dean said, letting Sam work at untying the ropes, "How the hell did you two get here?"

"We stole a car!" Emillyn answered happily, quickly working the ropes from Isidore's wrists, "It was awesome."

Dean grinned, "Exactly what I would have done."

As soon as the ropes were off Isidore, she pulled Emillyn into a tight hug, "I missed you."

"I missed you too." Emillyn muttered, returning the embrace.

"Alright you two, it's barely been two days." Dean cut in, "And maybe we can schedule the emotional shit after we make it through the night."

Isidore and Emillyn let go of each other, nodding. Isidore looked around the orchard, freezing at a sight a few feet ahead. "Um, Dean, what was it you said earlier about the scarecrow moving?"

"I said it wouldn't- holy shit." He breathed out, noticing the empty post. "Run."

The four took off at a high speed, running aimlessly through the woods. "Shouldn't we burn the bitch!?" Emillyn shouted.

"Maybe in the morning when it's not moving around like a fucking muppet!" Dean yelled back.

"Well, that's a horrifying image!"

"We don't have time for this, let's _go_." Sam hissed, jerking right. The four followed suit, sprinting to the end of the orchard.

* * *

"I still say I should have gotten to burn the thing. I stole the car!" Emillyn called from the back seat of the Impala, shoving another hot cheetoh in her mouth.

"If you get the dust from that shit on my car I'll kick your ass." Dean told her.

"And you didn't steal the car, I did." Sam reminded.

"Well, I drove it." She said.

"No, you didn't!"

Isidore smiled to herself, it was nice to have things back to normal. To have the family back together.

"So? Do I need to drop you two off somewhere?" Dean asked Sam and Emillyn.

"No way." Emillyn said around a mouthful of food.

"You're stuck with us." Sam agreed, earning a grin from Dean.


	5. Faith

"Alright, a taser for each of us." Dean told the group, handing out one to each of three. "A hundred thousand volts each. One shot will take this rawhead down but that's all we get- _one shot_." The three nodded in acknowledgement, looking over the devices. "Me and Emillyn go down the stairs first, followed by Sam and Isidore."

Dean turned, heading down the basement stairs quickly, followed in the order he gave. The basement was grimy, covered in webs and dust, a thick layer of rancid smelling water pooled up in the corner of the room. The four all startled at the noise of banging coming from a cupboard door against the wall.

"Let's count." Sam suggested, but Isidore and Emillyn were already working at prying the door open.

The open doors revealed two young, dirtied children, a boy and a girl. Isidore knelt in front of them, "Is it still here?" she asked softly, receiving a nod from the kids. "Alright, I need you two to be brave for just a little while longer. I'm going to take your sister, and my friend here will grab you." She explained, lifting the small girl into her arms and nodding toward Sam to grab the other.

"We got the rawhead." Emillyn told the two, moving aside to let Sam and Isidore quickly head up the stairs.

"Emi!" Dean called, nodding toward the ragged, hairy creature just a few feet away. She whipped around quickly, attempting to tase the creature but missing.

He attempted the same feat, stepping closer but the creature quickly moved out of the way. Isidore and Sam rushed back down the stairs, watching Dean be backed into a corner by the creature. "Dean!" Sam shouted, tossing his brother the taser.

Dean caught it, pointing it at the creature. Emillyn watched, horrified as she noticed his feet splashing in the water, "Wait, don't shoot!"

Dean didn't hear, or maybe he did, but in a quick moment the creature was being painfully shocked- and so was Dean. He collapsed to the ground, the voltage seeming to visibly move through his body.

Isidore was moving first, falling to her knees beside Dean in the large puddle of water. She shook him first, as hard as she could. "Dean. Dean come on." She set her hands on his chest, a soft, blue glow shining for just a flicker of a moment. Dean's eyes cracked open for a moment and Emillyn and Sam moved down to check over him but he was already out again.

* * *

"I fucking hate daytime TV." Dean muttered, flipping through the channels on the small hospital television.

"'S not so bad." Emillyn insisted from the chair beside his bed she sat in, "You could use some Dr. Phil."

Dean hit her with a pillow, groaning out as he made the movement. Isidore quickly took the pillow from his hands, frowning, "None of this till Dean is feeling better, you two." She scolded, gently leaning Dean forward and setting the pillow back behind him.

"Alright, mom." Emillyn teased, patting Dean's arm, "I hope you know- weak or not- I could take you in a fight."

He rolled his eyes in response, opting to shut off the television. "You wish."

Sam entered the room and the three instinctively stiffened, all looking to the tall Winchester with worried features, anxious to hear what the doctor had to say about Dean's condition. Sam let out an audible exhale, strengthening the anxiety in the room, "Doctor says there's nothing he can do." He told the room slowly, "Said it's a miracle Dean's heart even started back up again at all."

Dean glanced over at Isidore who was keeping her eyes glued to the tiled floor. His eyes flickered back to Sam, "Well, take the girls and start heading out of town."

"What?" all three gasped in unison.

"I'm going to die here. You three are gonna keep hunting, find the thing that killed Mom- killed Jess. Then live normal lives." He instructed.

"That's ridiculous. Why would we leave you?" Emillyn asked with a deep frown.

"Did you miss the 'going to die' bit? Don't exactly want you all around watching me fade away." He said. "Take care of Baby, alright? Or I swear to God I'll haunt all of you."

"That's not funny." Isidore told him seriously, "We're going to save you."

"No. You'll salt and burn my body and I'll die in peace." He told her, "That's the life. Live fast, die young." He had a weak laugh.

"Live long, die slow." Emillyn corrected.

* * *

Isidore stepped foot into the hospital chapel. It was a small room with tan walls and deep mahogany wood chairs. It would have just looked like a normal room were it not for the glass cross set in the front center. She took a deep, shaky breath, glad to be alone in the room.

She slowly sat down in the front chair, pulling the cross attached to her silver chain out from underneath the warmth of her knit green, emerald sweater.

"Dear God," her voice was hoarse and painful, surprising her, "I'm sorry I haven't done this in a while, but please, just bear with me."

She paused, wondering if she sounded rude, and wondering even more why she didn't quite care if she was. Tears were filling the back of her eyes as she spoke again, "I know I have no right to say this, but," her voice cracked, "Dean Winchester is one of the good ones. One of the best ones, actually. And if you let him go-"

She felt her breath hitch and dropped her head in her hands, "If you let him go," she tried again, "You'd be making a huge mistake. He can do a lot of good for this world- I know he can. If you just… if you… if you just let him live."

The tears were no longer being held back, instead she was struggling to muffle sobs behind her palm. She sucked in a breath through her teeth, looking up at the cross through tear blurred vision, "Please." She whispered hopelessly. "We need him."

She looked down at her necklace, twirling the pendant between her fingers, "I need him." She admitted aloud. "And I hate to be selfish, but after the trials you've put me through…I think just maybe I deserve one favor." She rubbed at her eyes roughly. "And if not for me, do it for Sam or Emillyn."

She slowly lifted herself off the chair, taking a step closer to the cross and setting a gentle on the structure, "Thank you for listening. Amen." She breathed out, slowly dropping to her knees, no longer attempting to hold back the full body sobbing that came out of her.

* * *

Isidore leaned gently against the door frame of Dean's hospital room, watching his resting form quietly. It was strange to see him like this, one of the strongest men she'd ever known curled up on a hospital bed in an oversized hoodie, breath noticeably uneven by the way his body moved up and down irregularly.

"Your shift?" He asked her weakly, cracking his eyes open to look at the girl, "You guys don't have to keep cycling out. I don't need a babysitter."

"You need a friend." She corrected softly, slowly making her way over to where he laid.

He sat up slowly, cringing visibly as he did. She moved to offer a hand, but he swatted it away. Finally, he laid back against the paper-thin pillows provided, patting gently on the mattress to offer her a seat.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she slowly sat on the hospital bed, doing her best to take up as little space as possible.

"Like a man with a month left to live." He answered, setting his hand over his chest, "Doctor said it's a miracle my heart's even beating."

"Well if I was going to pick anyone who'd fight death tooth and nail, it would be you." She told him with a soft smile, struggling to keep her voice at an even tone. She knew he'd flip if she started to cry, but it was hard not to stare a hole into the broken man in front of her.

Dean simply breathed out, though it had the faint reminisce of a chuckle. "Can I ask you about something?"

"Anything." She assured, studying his features carefully.

"After the heart attack, I… I saw something." He spoke slowly, his eyes flickering to her hands, "Something strange."

Isidore tilted her head, ignoring the memory of the glow that she produced, "Strange? Stranger than our usual?"

"Kinda." He said, "I could've sworn you were glowing."

"'Glowing'?" she repeated back, surprise in her tone. She knew she shouldn't lie, but she couldn't exactly tell the truth when she could hardly explain what happened herself, "Maybe it was the electricity."

"Maybe." He mumbled in agreement, "You looked like an angel."

A smile formed on her face as her dark eyes met his, "Are you flirting with me on your death bed?"

"Call it a last-ditch effort." He joked with a dry chuckle.

She set a gentle hand on his cheek, pulling his head toward her carefully and placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, "I'm promising you right now, you're going to make it through this. It's not your time." She whispered reassuringly, glad his head was positioned in a way where he couldn't see the tears rolling down her face, "None of us are going to let you die."

He moved his head out from under her, looking up and noticing her watering eyes, "Hey, don't go pulling out the waterworks on me." He told her, though his own eyes were misty.

"Sorry, sorry." She apologized, quickly wiping under her eyes, "No more tears, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, sunshine." He told her with a tired grin before his green eyes looked at her with a surprising intensity, "Can I ask one more thing?" She nodded once in response, the concern in her eyes apparent as he continued, "I know you don't want to think about me dying..."

She frowned deeply, "Dean-"

He held up a hand, stopping her from continuing, "But hear me out. I have a dying wish, so to speak. And if it makes you feel better, think of it as an overall thing- if and when I die. Could be tomorrow, could be thirty years from now."

"I'm listening..." she told him softly, though the worry in her voice was evident.

"I need you to take care of Sammy. I already told Emillyn." He explained, "If something were to happen he'd really need someone, I don't want him doing anything reckless. I need to know he's safe."

The thought was painful, Sam without Dean, or vice versa. Sure, they had their arguments, it had only been a few weeks ago that they split up- but they cared viciously about one another. She couldn't even attempt to think like that, but she saw the pain in the Winchester's eyes and nodded slowly, "Of course."

He smiled softly, seemingly relieved if only slightly, "Thank you. And with that it's game time." He said, beginning to turn his legs off the hospital bed slowly.

She frowned worriedly, "What are you doing?"

"You think I'm gonna die in a hospital room? I don't think so." He said, taking a long moment to inch his feet onto the floor.

"At least let me help you out." She insisted, helping him take his first step.

He snorted, and she looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Was waiting for your shift, I knew you'd be my best chance of getting out of here without a fight."

* * *

Sam threw his phone with a force that startled Emillyn from her research, she looked over at the teary-eyed Winchester, "Still no answer from your dad?" She asked.

"No. Not that I was expecting much." He grumbled, slumping in his chair. The two were surrounded by books and Sam's open laptop scattered across the tiny motel round table.

Emillyn rubbed at her eyes, "So our best lead is still the God healer?" She asked.

"Faith healer." He corrected with a sigh, "Dean's never going to go along with it."

"Tell him it's a specialist." She suggested halfheartedly, laying her head down on a nearby leather-bound book, "Anything we have to tell him."

Sam watched the girl for a moment, frowning deeply, "You alright?" She tilted her head toward him, raising her eyebrows. "Stupid question," he admitted, " but you haven't been yourself at all."

She breathed out, shutting her eyes tight, "Because I've been spending all my energy on making sure I don't cry in front of Dean." She explained, "We all have. Haven't we?"

He thought over the comment, exhaling, "Yeah, maybe." He agreed, rubbing his temples.

"I'm just not ready to lose someone again." She confessed, keeping her eyes glued to the floral wallpaper.

"Neither am I."

"Shit, Sam, I'm sorry." She apologized quickly, looking over at the boy with teary eyes, "I wasn't even thinking about how recently-"

"It's okay." He interrupted, "I'm just agreeing with you."

She slowly stood up from the chair, rubbing her arms, "It's just- it's Dean. He's the toughest son of a bitch I know." She pushed her blonde hair back, "And now he's got death looming over his head from what? And electric shock?"

"We're going to save him. He's not going to die like this." He insisted, rising from his chair to step in front of her, "You believe that, don't you? You bring all the optimism to the group, if you don't have faith it's gonna be a hell of a lot harder for me to."

She stared up at the tall Winchester for a long moment, unable to hold back the soft, involuntary whimper that came from her, "I am hopeful." She promised in a trembling voice, "But it's hard… seeing him like that."

"Hey." He shushed her, wrapping his arms around the girl, "I get it. Trust me, I get it."

"Look, I'm not much of a crier." She mumbled roughly against his jacket, "So don't tell anyone about this."

Sam chuckled weakly, "Who the hell am I going to tell?" he asked, gently letting go of her and gesturing to the wet streaks down his face, "Without embarrassing myself." She grinned up at him in response.

The two startled at the sound of a knock at the door, wiping at their faces. "I'll get it." She told him, opening the motel door to find Dean leaning against Isidore for support. "What the hell?"

"I tried to stop him." Isidore insisted, gently helping Dean lower onto a chair.

"Checked myself out." He told the group with a proud grin, slumping back against the support of the furniture.

Sam shook his head, huffing out a laugh, "You're insane. You know that?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dean said with an absent wave of the hand, raising an eyebrow at Sam and Emillyn, "Have you two slept at all? You look like shit."

"We've all been up the past three days looking for ways to save your ass." Emillyn told him, squeezing the weak Winchester's hand comfortingly.

"Y'all really can't just let me die in peace?" he asked.

"Can't let you die period." Sam replied, giving his brother a delicate pat on the shoulder. "Stuck with us, remember?"

Dean sighed in response, though he couldn't hide the hint of a smile that came to his face, "And how exactly do you plan on saving me?"

"We've narrowed it down to, uh," Sam rubbed his face, "One option?"

"One? So, this is a 'Hail Mary' sort of plan?"

"Oh, more than you know." Emillyn muttered under her breath.

Isidore looked over at the two with surprised eyes, "That's the plan we've settled on?" she asked, receiving a shrug from Sam in response.

"Will one of you please tell me what's going on?" Dean complained.

"We're taking you to a specialist." Sam said, looking between Isidore and Emillyn, indicating them to go along with this. "He's a miracle worker. Hunter I talked to said he does amazing work."

"A hunter said that?" Dean responded with a disbelieving look, "About a miracle worker?"

"Says he's the real deal." Sam insisted.

"I don't know…"

"Please, Dean." Isidore spoke up, "Just give it a try." She insisted, the other two nodding in agreement with her.

Dean looked between three sets of pleading eyes, letting out a frustrated exhale, "I hate all of you. Fine, we'll try it." The three exchanged relieved smiles.

* * *

The four pulled up to a clear field, save only for the mass amounts of cars and the giant, white circus tent set up advertising 'Roy LeGrange, Faith Healer'. Groups of people flooded into a tent, some with very visible physical ailments.

"I'm not getting out of this fucking car." Dean grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest. "You told me this was a doctor."

"Specialist." Sam corrected, "And I told you, he's the real deal."

"He's a faith healer, Sam! They're nutjobs!" he shouted as they opened the car doors, sliding out. All three moved to offer Dean help up, but he mumbled aggressively and got himself up slowly but surely.

"Amen, brother!" A protestor from a few feet away called in response to Dean's comment.

Dean gestured in the direction of the protestor, "See? Nonbeliever right there."

"The mystical is always going to cause a few doubters." Sam said with a simple shrug, "And your 'laugh in the face of God' attitude isn't helping."

Dean turned on his heels, looking at Sam seriously, "You really believe in God? After everything we've seen? After what happened with the demon?"

"Demons are exactly why I believe." Isidore spoke up softly, startling the two boys into looking at her, "If there's evil, there has to be good, right? To balance out."

"You're religious?" Dean asked, surprise evident in his tone.

"More spiritual, I guess." She answered, gently pulling her cross necklace out from underneath her layers and showing it to the group. "It helps… you know, to pray."

"Did you pray for me?"

Isidore looked at him with a jarring sympathy, putting the necklace back under her sweater, "Of course I did."

"Look, religious or not, it's worth a try. We've seen a body pinned to the ceiling and burning, who are we to say what's possible?" Emillyn cut in, "We might as well give it a shot."

"Fine. But don't expect me to be happy about it." He grumbled and the three all moved to help him along into the tent.

The tent was relatively small on the inside but crowded. Isidore looked over the people taking seats, all looking up to an older, round man standing behind a wooden podium. Behind the man was a large, beautiful carved cross. The older man received a gentle kiss on the cheek from an older woman, wearing a large pendant around her neck. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a cross, however the intersecting lines were surrounded by a circle. She wondered if this was a denomination of Christianity she had no knowledge of, or perhaps a separate religion entirely.

"Let's just sit here." Dean told the group, moving toward empty seats at the very back of the tent.

"Nope, no way. Closer to the front." Sam insisted, leading the four to the very front row of the service.

"Sam. No way." Dean protested, shifting in obvious discomfort.

"Just sit." The younger brother instructed, not showing any intention to budge. Dean let out an audible sigh, the collection of people in the tent all whispering amongst themselves about the scene.

Once Dean was finally sat down, the three moved to sit around him, Emillyn and Sam sitting stiff on either side of the Winchester to keep him from attempting to leave. Isidore sat on the other side of Sam, studying the anxiety on Dean's face. She wondered if this was truly centered around a disbelief or if the religious environment was what stuck discomfort in the older brother.

Silence fell over the crowd as the blind man, Roy, spoke. He spoke about bad in the world, said he believed God was watching though, offering miracles. When he made a statement, the crowd instinctively agreed with him. The affirmative murmurs of the crowd seemed to stress Dean out even more, as he desperately searched with unease around the tent to find something to focus his eyes on.

"I do not want any of you to think that I do the healing here, folks." Roy told the crowd. Isidore instinctively looked down at her own hands, remembering the glow that emanated from them. "The Lord does. He allows me to look into the hearts and souls of others and heal them through his hand."

"More like look into their wallets." Dean murmured.

"You really believe that, son?" Roy asked in response to Dean's comment, causing an immediate, judgmental quiet to fall over the tent. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Dean." He responded, the guilt in his voice evident. He was lucky the healer was blind because he certainly wouldn't have been able to meet the eyes of the man.

A smile spread across Roy's face as he extended a hand in the general direction of the green-eyed Winchester, "Do you come here to be healed Dean?"

"Well, yeah…"

"Then join me up here!" Roy insisted.

The crowd began to clap at this, loudly urging Dean on. Emillyn gave Dean's shoulder a reassuring shake and Sam was already beginning to put a hand on Dean's back to get his older brother out of the seat. Dean remained stiff as a board however, "You should pick someone else." He told the healer.

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered, still trying to push his brother into a standing position.

"I didn't _pick_ you Dean." Roy assured, "The Lord did." The crowd's cheers became louder.

Isidore leaned over Sam, gently setting a hand over Dean's, "It's okay." She whispered, "We'll be right here."

Dean stared at the girl for a moment, his eyes surprisingly fearful, but slowly he nodded. He rose from his chair at a rigid pace, muttering something under his breath before slowly approaching Roy.

The wife of Roy, Sue Ann, offered Dean a hand helping him into a position in front of the healer. "Are you ready?" Roy asked the boy.

Dean kept his eyes focused away from the crowd, "Look, man, I don't believe in this shit." He said.

"You will." Roy assured him, setting a hand on Dean's forehead. He instructed the crowd to pray with him as he slowly lowered Dean onto his knees. Isidore watched worriedly, trying to keep her mind off the worst possible scenarios. She couldn't even manage a quiet prayer, she was already well worn out from the breakdown she'd had the last time.

Her mind was racing so fast, she hadn't even noticed at first when Dean slumped to the floor. Not till Emillyn and Sam were out of their seats, rushing to his side. And even then, she couldn't move, she could only stare intensely at the image of the collapsed man.

Her anxieties turned to relief when he was suddenly jolted awake, gasping for air. "What the hell?" she saw him whisper to himself.

* * *

"People don't just drop dead of heart attacks for no reason. I'm just saying it's strange." Dean told the group, he was back to his usual, spry self. The doctor who ran the check up said that it was if there had never been heart damage at all, however, the news that a young man had dropped dead of a heart attack the same day had the older Winchester on edge.

"Can we just look at this like the miracle it is?" Sam begged, "You're healthy again."

"I'll drop it under one condition." Dean replied, "After we meet with Roy you go check in on the heart attack victim. At least see what you can find out about it."

"I'll go with you." Emillyn told Sam, elbowing the taller Winchester whose features were still reluctant, "Come on, it'll make him feel better if we do."

"Alright." He gave in. Following the four up the stairs that led to the quaint, suburban, white picket house home of Roy and Sue Ann. Isidore felt a certain awe as she approached the door, wondering how connected to God a man capable of such miraculous acts must be. She watched as Sam knocked on the door.

Sue Ann opened it after a minute, smiling at the four, "Hello, dears. Roy's just inside, he's been waiting to talk to you." She told them, moving out of the way for the group to shuffle into the living room of the house. The room was filled with crowded bookshelves, all seeming to dawn religious titles.

"I was hoping you'd visit, Dean." Roy said aloud, causing everyone's heads to turn, he was seated at a table, four empty chairs pulled out around it. From the looks of the mix-matched furniture, it seemed Sue Ann had pulled out stops just for the four. "Please, have a seat, all of you."

The four slowly made their way into the seats, Isidore sat at the very end of the table, closest to the curtain drawn window. Dean took the spot beside her, followed by Sam and then Emillyn. Dean's fingers still seemed to twitch nervously at the situation, and Isidore instinctively reached her hand under the table to link their fingers together reassuringly. Dean acknowledged appreciation for the gesture with a light squeeze of the girl's hand.

"Mr. LeGrange," Sam started.

"Roy, please, son." The healer corrected.

"Um, Roy," Sam changed quickly, "When did the miracles start?"

Roy explained a story that made Isidore's heart twist, telling the four that he had woken up one morning to find he had no vision at all. It was soon after that he'd learned that he had late stage cancer, with only about as long to live as Dean had had only moments ago. He explained that even at the worst point of the sickness, he had faith, and insisted that his wife pray along with him. Sure enough, a miracle had come. Roy had no evidence of cancer, apart from the pale, white eyes he was left with as a reminder.

"And you were able to heal others?" Isidore asked the man, "Perform miracles."

Roy nodded once, "God blessed me in many ways, dear." He told the girl, "As I can tell he's blessed you." The comment surprised her, she wondered if he knew about the glowing light- though she wasn't certain how that could be possible.

Dean seemed to catch onto the comment to, glancing at the girl with an almost expectant curiosity, hoping she could explain what the man meant by that. When he got no answer, he elected to ask a question, "Why did you pick me?"

The question was received with surprised look by the four at the table, as if by instinct Emillyn was the first to speak, "Because you were meant to be saved, isn't that right?" she asked Roy, though she seemed to only be requesting back up for her statement rather than an answer.

"The Lord allows me to look into souls, as I said." The healer answered, "When I looked at the four of you, I saw a weak soul with an important job, and three souls willing to do whatever it takes to ensure you stayed with them."

* * *

"Can I ask you a question?" Dean's voice startled Isidore, he'd only spoken a few words since the two got back to the motel room. Sam and Emillyn had offered her a spot to tag along to check out the heart attack, but she offered to stay behind with Dean, not admitting that she still wasn't fully reassured the Winchester wouldn't drop on the ground any second.

"Always." She answered, meeting eyes with the boy from her spot on one of the motel beds.

He moved off his spot against the motel wall, setting his empty beer bottle on the table along the way before taking a seat beside her on the bed, "How do you do it? How do you manage to do the faith and prayer thing when I know you see the same evil shit I do every day?"

She thought over the question, "I guess it's because, for every blood thirsty monster we've faced, I think about the fact that we're all together. And that feels right. That feels good."

Dean raised his eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"I can't be certain that God or angels exist." She told him, "But I can be certain that the sun rises every morning. That even on the darkest days, Emillyn will always find a bright side for us. That no matter how much adversity he faces, Sam will always combat it with good and kind intentions."

Her eyes flickered up to his, an admiring smile on her face, "That Dean Winchester will always fight the good fight." She said, "There's always goodness to be found. I guess I have faith in that."

"Goodness exists, sure." Dean agreed, watching her carefully, "You prove that all the time. I don't think that's God though, that's you, your actions."

"Well, I've always needed a little help." She responded softly, fidgeting with the material of her sweater. "I've got a lot of bad things inside of me."

"Hold on." He stopped her with a serious tone, "How can you seriously try to sit here and tell me you're a bad person?"

"How can you seriously sit here and think you're not worth saving?" she replied, her tone just as sincere.

He looked taken aback by the comment, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I heard you at Roy's and saw you in the tent…" she said slowly, reaching out a hand to set on his cheek, "The faith you're missing is faith in yourself. You've convinced yourself you're not worth all of this, but you are. You've saved so many people. You put a lot of good into this world."

He removed her hand from his face slowly, "There's plenty of people I haven't saved." He said softly, "I just can't see a world where God exists. Not when we've seen people be ripped apart."

She opened her mouth to speak but elected to shut it when Sam and Emillyn came through the door. Dean and Isidore looked over at the two, curious for news on the heart attack victim. "I'm so sorry." Sam whispered.

Emillyn moved to explain, "The man who died of a heart attack passed at 4:10PM."

Dean's features fell instantly, "The same time I was healed." He noted, "Roy traded a life for mine." He smacked the bedframe with a force that shook the wall, "Dammit!" he hissed, lifting from his spot on the bed and pacing.

"We cross-checked, six people have died in exact alignment with those who have been healed." Sam explained slowly, the guilt evident in his tone, "One is cured of cancer, another dies of it."

"So, this young guy Marshall, he died for me?" Dean asked, his jaw clenched.

"He would have died anyway." Emillyn cut in, "The people who pass seem to be chosen in advanced."

"Oh, yeah, because that makes it better!" Dean snapped.

Isidore bit down on the inside of her cheek, urging herself not to say anything. She thought about the way Roy had spoken of his gift, the connection he believed he had to God. But this had nothing to do with faith and miracles, just dark magic.

"I told all of you I didn't want to come here." Dean reminded, anger rising in his tone.

"We were trying to save you!" Emillyn shouted, "We were all scared!"

"Someone is dead because of me."

"Dean. We didn't know." Sam insisted, "There's no way we could have. I don't even know how he's doing it."

"Oh, he's not doing it." Dean replied, rubbing his face, "I saw what it was. A reaper, it had to have been bound to Roy, forced to trade lives." The three stood stunned, shocked by Dean's words. His eyes flickered to Isidore, "Where's your faith and goodness now?"

* * *

Sam and Isidore crouched beside the porch of Roy's house, watching as Roy and a dark-haired man made their way down the stairs of the porch and into the car. Isidore and Sam exchanged a look, waiting until the car was far away to move up the stairs. Isidore watched as Sam quickly worked a lock pick into the door, taking a moment before shoving the door open and heading inside. Isidore gently closed the door behind them and the two set to work.

Sam examined the bookshelves, glancing at title after title, all relative degrees of normal religious text. That's when he noticed the only spot on the shelf not covered with a thick layer of dust. The book that took that space was The Bible and Sam scoffed allowed, grabbing it and pulling it back, noticing a small, black book hidden behind. "Isidore." He called.

Isidore turned from searching Roy's desk, hurrying over beside him. He flicked through the pages of the book, the two noticing the odd cross that Sue Ann had, as well as a picture of a skeletal reaper.

"Look." She told him, pulling out a loose piece of paper folded within the book. The two found a newspaper article on the heart attack victim who had passed for Dean- an openly gay teacher. Another victim was an abortion's rights activist. And the last paper they found was of a familiar man, her eyes flickered to Sam, "The protestor." She said, her voice weak with the tears she was holding back.

The dryness of the girl's voice didn't pass over Sam as he closed the book, looking over at her, "What's wrong?"

She sniffled, wiping at her face with her sweater sleeves, "I'm sorry." She apologized quickly, "I just… I was an idiot. I really thought miracles were happening."

"You're not an idiot," he started.

"These people are dead." She whispered, looking over the faces once more, "Good people. Dead because Roy believes he's punishing the corrupt. I just had hope that maybe this really was a matter of faith."

"So did I." he admitted softly, looking at the girl seriously, "But we can stop more death from happening. Can you call Emillyn? Let she and Dean know what's going on."

She nodded once, taking a deep breath and moving to pull out her cellphone.

* * *

"Alright, be safe." Emillyn told Isidore through the phone before hanging up, moving to stand beside where Dean was leaning against the Impala, staring daggers at the white tent.

"Isidore says it's definitely a binding spell." She told him, leaning back as well, "She said the protestor is next if we don't make sure no one gets healed."

Dean grumbled an affirmation, he'd been relatively silent since the news that his life had been saved by another being lost. He moved off the Impala, leading the girl into the tent. The two decided to stand at the back, watching as the service began. They waited on edge until at last, a person was picked to be healed- a child.

Dean and Emillyn exchanged guilty looks, horrified as they watched the small girl raise from her seat, her mom crying sobs loud enough to be heard form the back.

"We shouldn't…" Emillyn trailed, her eyes fixated on the tiny girl.

"We have to." He spoke softly, "I think I have an idea. You stay here, see if you can figure out how they're doing it."

She nodded once, though it was hard to see through the blurry vision her tears were producing. Up there, beside Roy, was a child destined to die- with no chance to live or grow old if they stopped her. The idea made Emillyn's heart clench painfully. She tore her eyes away from the child, noticing Sue Ann in the corner of the tent. Her eyes were focused on the strange cross around her neck, whispering an incantation to it.

"Fire!" Dean screamed, startling Emillyn, "Fire! Everybody out of the tent!"

The crowd all muttered in confusion and fear, standing up and quickly beginning to flood out. The young girl watched with teary eyes as Roy took his hand off the child's head. Her mom screamed out, begging Roy to continue, but the damage had already been done. Emillyn tried to block out the sight, watching as Sue Ann snuck out the back of the tent quickly.

Dean rushed over to meet Emillyn, "Did you see?"

"It's not Roy." Emillyn told him quickly, "It's Sue Ann. She's doing the picking and choosing."

* * *

Isidore ended the call on her phone as Sam finished putting the rest of the details of Roy's house back into a perfect shape. "Emillyn says Sue Ann is doing it. I'm assuming the pendant on her neck…"

"We need to break it." Sam finished for her, straightening the last book on the shelf.

"I saw a cellar around the back." Isidore suggested softly, her eyes trailing to the front door, "We should check it before we look for her. Just in case."

He nodded, "Alright." He agreed, leading the girl out the door with him. The two stopped in front of the cellar, both hearing the rustling noise from below. She shot the tall Winchester a worried look, and Sam placed a finger over his lips.

She leaned down, peeking through a crack in the door of the cellar. Her breath caught in her throat when she caught the image of Sue Ann amongst the horrifying image of animal bones and vials of blood. "She's down there." Isidore whispered to him as quietly as she possibly could.

He nodded, slowly opening the cellar door. Sue Ann immediately straightened from where she was leaning down, "If you wanted to come in, you simply could have knocked." She told them, turning to look at Isidore and Sam.

Isidore's eyes lingered to an image pinned to the wall, a security camera photo of Dean, with blood smeared in the middle.

Sue Ann seemed to notice what Isidore saw, a smile on her face, "I gave Dean life, and I can take it away. He is wicked, he doesn't appreciate the gift he has been given. The Lord has chosen me to carry out his plan."

"This has nothing to do with God." Sam hissed, "You're using blood magic."

Sue Ann shook her head, pulling an ornate knife off the table and pointing it in the direction of the two, "You two are going to let me leave. I will do whatever I have to." She told them.

Isidore set a hand on Sam's arm, standing in front of him, "Go." She told the woman.

Sue Ann smiled sickeningly, "God is in you Isidore, I can just tell." She made her way up the stairs, closing the cellar doors behind her.

Sam and Isidore exchanged fearful looks. "You get the door open, I'll call Emillyn." Isidore told Sam quickly, dialing in the number as Sam grabbed the heaviest object in the room.

* * *

"Dean! Wait up a second!" Emillyn called as she quickly followed behind the older Winchester who was stomping toward the white tent with a fierce determination, "Isidore said the Reaper is going to come after you, I need to protect you."

"Oh, let it come!" Dean shouted, "I'm going to rip that bitch a new one."

"Hey!" the two were interrupted by two cops, barreling toward the two.

"Run, you asshole!" Emillyn told Dean, grabbing his arm as she pulled him forcibly through the lines of cars outside the tent.

The two twisted their way through the cars, hoping to lose the cops, but the men were only a few steps away at any moment. Emillyn whispered a curse to herself, jumping and pulling herself on top of an RV. She leaned over, holding out a hand for Dean, "Come on!" she hissed in a whisper.

Dean stared at the girl with surprise for a moment, before leaping up and pulling himself onto the car with the help of her. The two laying flat on the top of the car, watching the officers pass by, still hot on the search. Once they were far enough away, Emillyn huffed out a laugh, "That was awesome!" she cheered, turning to Dean and screaming.

Dean was laid flat on the RV, his eye color slowly lightening as he held a hand over his neck, gasping out for air. Emillyn scrambled over, setting her hands over the boy's chest. "Dean! Dean, come on, stay with me!" she shouted, receiving only the desperate gulps for air from the boy in response.

The girl's whole body shook, as she desperately clawed at the air in the hopes that she'd somehow get a grip on the reaper, "I'm going to protect you, okay?" she told the boy quickly, "I'm right here."

She continued her assurances hopelessly, her voice becoming weak. The light was fading from the Winchester rapidly and there was absolutely nothing she could do. She dropped her head, letting out a gut-wrenching sob as she clutched onto Dean's jacket tightly.

For a moment, the older Winchester didn't move, no breathing coming from a seemingly lifeless body. "No. No no no no no no." she begged, slapping his face hard.

"Ow! Holy shit!" he gasped, lurching upright and holding onto his face, "What the fuck was that for!?"

"I thought you were dead you fucker!" Emillyn shouted, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. "Don't ever do that again!"

* * *

Dean sat on the edge of the motel bed, staring forward at the peeling wallpaper. "I should have let that kid be healed." He whispered so quietly that Isidore almost didn't hear him, "How do I get to live and a child doesn't?"

She looked over, slowly lowering herself to sit beside him, "Sue Ann was a cruel woman." She told him softly, leaning her head against his shoulder, "I thought Roy was creating miracles, but this… it was dark. I'm sorry I was so faithful."

He shook his head, "No, I should apologize. What I said to you earlier, this wasn't your fault." When she didn't respond to him, he turned to face her, taking her face in both of his hands, "You told me earlier I'm good? So are you."

"You think so?" she asked softly, tears falling down her cheeks.

"One of the few things I'm sure of." He assured her, kissing the top of her head.

Instinctively, she grabbed onto him, giving him a tight hug, "I'm so glad you're alive." She whispered.

He returned the hug, holding onto the girl tightly, "Me too." He murmured against her hair.

Isidore wasn't sure how long she held onto him, but she didn't let go even when she heard the door open and Sam and Emillyn shuffled in with rustling take out bags. "Group hug!" Emillyn shouted cheerfully and suddenly another pair of arms were around the two. "C'mon Sam."

Isidore heard the tall Winchester chuckled under his breath, engulfing all three in a tight hug.


End file.
